


Five Thousand Miles of Silence

by sweetasscas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Aromantic Dean, Asexual Castiel, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2015, Injured Sam, M/M, Oral Sex, Professor Castiel, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-04-30 23:22:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 60,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5183570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetasscas/pseuds/sweetasscas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the ridiculous situations Dean Winchester had ever found himself in, this one took the prize: standing in his living room dressed in nothing but boxer-briefs and one sock, watching a strange girl pass out on his couch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So much love to my amazing alphas [200dollargod](http://200dollargod.tumblr.com/), [femmedplume](http://femmedplume.tumblr.com/), and [coltsandquills](http://coltsandquills.tumblr.com/), and my fantastic betas [gnaist](http://gnaist.tumblr.com/) and [prettymessedupsituation](http://prettymessedupsituation.tumblr.com/). Special thanks to [geeklibrarian](http://geeklibrarian.tumblr.com/) and [pecanpiedean](http://pecanpie.co.vu/). I couldn't have done this without you.
> 
> Artwork by the fabulous [paxdracona](http://paxdracona.tumblr.com/). ♥

Dean stumbled into his apartment and closed the door. He let the late night silence surround him for a moment before he turned the deadbolt into place. He didn't bother to flip on the light as he made his way to the kitchen. The clock on the microwave showed a quarter after three; he gave it the finger on the way to the refrigerator. A quick glance at its offerings brought a sigh, and he let the door fall shut as he turned toward his bedroom. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, wrinkling his nose at the overwhelming scent of alcohol and sweat. The new bartender was a great guy, but was much too _Cocktail_ for Dean's taste. He sank onto the bed and reached to pull off his boots, wincing at the muscle spasms that raced down his back.

“Getting too old for this shit,” he said to the empty room. Twenty-nine wasn't old by most standards, but a life of hard work had prematurely aged him. He didn't regret working two jobs so long as Sam was taken care of. What he regretted was the lack of white-collar career options his GED afforded him. He wasn't ashamed to work construction during the day, bar-back and security at night; he was just tired. Had been tired for years. Maybe, he thought as he kicked his boots toward the closet and stood to let his jeans pool around his ankles, maybe he should slow down. Could slow down, what with Sammy graduating soon. Maybe cut back to one job. Maybe go to school himself. He huffed a humorless laugh and slipped between the sheets. Those were thoughts best left for a less sleep-deprived mind. Right now he just wanted a few hours of shut-eye before he had to go back to work.

A dull thump pulled him from dreamless sleep less than an hour later. Dean instinctively reached for the baseball bat under his bed, trying to decide if he had dreamed the sound. The sliding click of the deadbolt had him in motion, bat held loosely at his side as he padded silently towards the front door.

“Cassie?” A harsh, not quite whisper.

He stepped into the hallway, hidden in the dark. He heard the woman stumble into the furniture and drunkenly giggle before shushing herself.

“Cassie? Are you home? Head hurts.” Her words drift off. Dean could almost see her, a darker figure against the early morning gloom. He turned the corner, flipping on the kitchen light and setting the bat aside. The woman scrunched her face and covered her eyes against the harsh light.

“Rude.” She turned her back on Dean and slumped onto the couch without looking at him. Her red hair was matted, an updo fallen into a mess of curls and hairspray. She pulled and twisted at her black dress, too tight to get comfortable, before shrugging and yanking it up over her hips. She toed out of her heels and let them clatter to the floor.

“Lady? Hey, you okay?” Dean reached for her just as she slid sideways. “Uh, ma'am?”

She hummed an answer and curled onto her side, folding her legs onto the cushions and her arm under her head. She didn't open her eyes even when Dean lightly touched her shoulder.

“Let me sleep, Cas. I'll go to bed in a minute. Just gonna sit here until the room stops spinning, okay? You can yell at me in the morning,” she slurred, already drifting to sleep.

Of all the ridiculous situations he had ever found himself in (and off the top of his head, he can think of more than a few), this one took the prize: standing in his living room dressed in nothing but boxer-briefs and one sock, watching a strange girl pass out on his couch.

“Lady?” He nudged her a couple more times before deciding she was dead to the world, and probably would be for a few hours. The idea of calling the police flickered through his thoughts, but he dismissed it with a shake of his head. What would that conversation sound like? _Yes, an attractive young woman broke into my house to take a nap. Could you come arrest her?_ He could just imagine the reaction. He shrugged, resigned to his decision. If she was gone when his alarm went off, and she managed to take any of his shit with her, he'd deal with the police. Until then, he was beat. Might as well get some sleep. He covered her gently with a spare quilt, checked the bolt on the front door, grabbed his bat, and went back to bed.

Sunlight streaming through thin curtains woke him several hours later. He woke slowly, stretching with a groan and blinking the sleep from his eyes. He rolled lazily towards the alarm clock, half-remembering the events of the night before and wondering if it was all a dream. The red numbers brought reality into sharp, sudden focus. Half past ten. He was over three hours late for work.

“Fuck! Shit fuck goddamn it!” He fell off the bed, feet tangled in the sheets. He tore at his discarded jeans, frantically pulling his phone from his pocket. Four missed calls: three from Benny, the crew boss, and one from the foreman. He sat on the floor, back resting against the bed frame, and made the appropriate calls, made his apologies. Only once he was sure his position on the crew was still secure did he think about the mysterious girl passed out on his couch.

He pulled on an old pair of sweats and a t-shirt and made his way to the living room. He could hear a soft breathy snore before he turned the corner. The woman was all limbs, flopped across both armrests and trailing down to the floor. Her dress had climbed higher in her sleep-induced thrashing, and Dean quickly pulled the quilt up to preserve her dignity.

There was no reason to wake her, given his unexpected day off. He turned back to the kitchen to start cooking breakfast, and didn't hear her stir until the coffee pot was full and the bacon was nearly done.

“Cas?” Her tone was confused, her voice strained from a night of heavy drinking. Dean grabbed a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin.

“Hey,” he said, stepping into the room slowly. “I don't know who Cas is, but I have a feeling you'll want these.”

Terror filled her eyes, followed by confusion and embarrassment.

“Who the fuck are you?!” She pulled the quilt higher.

“I'm Dean. This is my apartment.” He motioned with the water glass before offering it to her again.

“Where's Cassie?” she asked, eyeing the water but too wary to take it.

Dean sighed and set the glass and bottle of pills on the coffee table in front of her.

“Look, lady, I don't know any Cassie. You broke in here last night, way past the legal limit, and passed out on my couch. That's all I know.” He held up his hands in surrender.

“I didn't break in,” she started, clutching her head as she sat up. She waved off his attempt to steady her.

“What do you mean you didn't break in? I know I locked that door.”

“Key. Under the mat. Like Cas told me it would be.” She reached for the water and aspirin while Dean stood gaping at her. A vague recollection of hiding the spare under his welcome mat surfaced. It had been years ago, when Sam was visiting more regularly. He'd forgotten it.

“Okay, well,” he stammered. “So you didn't exactly 'break' in, but you're clearly in the wrong apartment.”

“302?” She sounded somewhat hopeful that it was all some kind of elaborate prank.

“204.” He crossed to the door and opened it, pointing to the brass numbers nailed at eye level.

“Shit.”

Dean laughed softly and shut the door.

“Shit, man. I'm so sorry. I was beyond trashed. Oh my god. What's Cas going to say?” She curled into herself, head in her hands, a whimper of shame escaping.

“No need to apologize. I'm surprised you could walk, let alone read. How about this – I made breakfast. Everything needed to cure a hangover. Why don't you help yourself and I'll run up and get your roommate? Friend?”

“Brother.” She lifted her head. “Castiel is my brother. He's going to be so pissed.”

“I'll run up, get your brother, maybe a change of clothes. You eat. Bathroom is down the hall to the left, you know, if you, yeah.” He waited for her to nod before stepping into the hallway.

He took the stairs two at a time up to the third floor. The hallway was identical to the floor below with the exception of a welcome mat situated in front of the first apartment on the left instead of the second. He knocked just below the “302” and was only a little surprised when the door flew open before he could lower his hand.

The man before him was frantic, all wild dark hair, wide blue eyes, and rumpled clothes. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, or if he had, it hadn't been particularly restful, if the deep bruises under his eyes were anything to go by.

“Cas?” Dean asked and extended his hand.

The man nodded but didn't offer his hand in return.

“Um. Hi. I'm Dean. I live downstairs in 204. Do you have a sister?” He lowered his hand and tried not to sound as awkward as he felt.

“What happened? Is she hurt? Where is she?”

“Whoa, calm down. She's fine. She's at my place, working on one hell of a hangover. I guess she had a little too much last night, mistook my welcome mat for yours.” Dean gave him a small smile. The man sighed like he'd been holding his breath for years.

“I . . .” he started, rubbing a hand down his face. “I apologize for any inconvenience my sister may have caused. I'll go retrieve her immediately.” He took a step toward Dean, who held up a hand to stop him.

“It's no trouble. Just a simple mix-up. But, uh, does she have some clothes here?” Cas's look darkened, and he held up his hands to placate him. “Nothing happened. It's just that, her dress . . . I got nosy neighbors.”

Cas's eyebrows arched in understanding. He stepped back into the apartment, leaving Dean at the threshold. He stood in awkward silence until Cas returned, clothes in hand.

“I'm sorry about the scare,” Dean said as he stepped out of the way. “I'm a big brother, too. I know what it's like, looking after your siblings.”

Cas nodded, locking his door and gesturing toward the stairwell. “I appreciate your concern. Anna can be . . .” He searched for the right words. “She is rather willful.”

Dean laughed softly and fell into step beside him. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Sammy, my brother – good kid but sometimes . . . I guess they have to test the waters or whatever.”

He unlocked his door and held it open for Cas. They stepped in to find Anna at the kitchen table, one hand holding up her head, the other holding a strip of bacon.

“Anna.” Dean could feel the disappointment and fear and relief in Cas's voice.

“Hey Cassie.” Anna didn't look up.


	2. Chapter 2

“Anna. What . . . How . . .” Cas fumbled. “I waited up for you. I called your phone countless times. I called hospital emergency rooms, the police. I was in the process of calling the morgue.”

“Jeez, Cas. Overreact much.” She still hadn't looked at him, carefully holding her head as if it would roll from her shoulders without the support.

“You've been gone for three days.” His voice was oddly calm. “How, exactly, does that not necessitate an overreaction?”

Anna froze, her piece of toast halfway to her mouth. Her eyes widened as she finally turned to face her brother. “Three days?”

Cas held the clothes out to her without further comment. Neither spoke as she stood and accepted them. When the bathroom door clicked shut, Dean cleared his throat, momentarily forgotten in the short confrontation.

“I apologize again for the inconvenience. And for this,” Cas waved his hand, indicating the last few minutes.

“Like I said, no worries. If Sam disappeared for three days, I'd be sick. And not half as calm as you are. I wish I had known. I would have gone to your place sooner.”

“There is no way you could have known. Besides, this isn't the first time she's . . . lost track of time.” Cas let his voice drop, let the words fall away as if in confession. His shoulders sagged and he gestured to a chair pulled up to the table. “May I?”

The request pushed Dean into host mode. “Yeah, of course. You hungry? You probably haven't had a decent meal in days. Help yourself.” He pulled dishes from the cabinet as he spoke and set them before Cas. “Coffee? Cream and sugar?”

“Just sugar, thank you.” Cas said and sank into the chair. He stirred sugar into his coffee and accepted a slice of toast, nibbling the corner while Dean busied himself at the stove. When Anna appeared, Cas stood and wiped the crumbs on his jeans. A look sent her to the door ahead of him, looking every bit like a kicked puppy.

“Thank you. For taking care of my sister.” The barest hint of a smile played on his lips. There was gratitude in his expression, but Dean could see something else, something not quite hidden.

“Of course.” He held the door open, wanting to say something, anything.

Cas stopped just outside the door and turned back.

“You know, some men would have taken advantage of her in that state. That's my constant fear, to be honest. I'm glad . . .” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I'm glad she found you.”

When Dean offered his hand, Cas took it.

“See ya, Cas.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

He watched Cas step into the stairwell, knowing he'd never remove that spare key from under the mat.

Days later, shivering in front of the industrial-sized space heater, surveying the work ahead of him, Dean accepted that the thoughts of Cas weren't simply going to go away. He'd tried to forget him, actively putting Cas out of his mind every time his thoughts wandered that way. He scrubbed a hand over his face. He couldn't fight it, couldn't forget it, so he might as well do something about it. Just what that would be, though, he didn't have a clue. He strapped his tool belt back around his waist and went back to work, shoving the thought to the back of his mind.

Later that night, as he was stepping out of the walk-in cooler at the Roadhouse with three cases of beer stacked in his arms, his brain decided that the easiest solution would be to knock on Cas's door. He had no idea what would happen after that, but at least he could see him again. Maybe figure out what he had hidden behind those unforgettable eyes. Confident in his ability to charm, or at least bullshit, his way through most situations, he resolved to take a chance. Just as soon as he could get a day off.

Fate seemed to have other ideas, however, and ignored Dean's carefully laid plan. He backed out of the kitchen, thoughts miles away on the dark green door and little brass “302,” and walked right into the one person he never expected.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, then repeated louder as the top case started to tip forward. Cas quickly caught it, looking as shocked as Dean felt.

“Shit. Sorry, man.” Dean dropped the other cases behind the bar and moved to take the third.

“It's no trouble.” Cas handed it over with a shy almost-smile. Dean couldn't help but smile back.

“Didn't expect to see you here. Ever.” He laughed to cover the truth of the statement. From what he could tell by the tailored slacks and sweater vest, Cas wasn't a sports bar kind of guy.

“I didn't expect to come here. I went to your apartment and one of your neighbors said you would be here. I hope I'm not intruding.” Cas wiped his hands down his thighs and looked around as if he was expecting imminent attack.

“No, you're not intruding. Let me get you a beer. On me.” Dean gave him his best smile when Cas nodded. He turned to the bartender. “Hey Ellen, I'm going to take a break and have a drink with my friend here.”

She raked her eyes down Cas, sizing him up. She didn't say if he passed her test or not, just shrugged and said, “You're still on the clock, and it's coming out of your tips.”

He smiled his thanks and pulled two longnecks from the cooler. He moved from behind the bar and waved for Cas to follow him to a deserted corner booth, far from prying eyes. He set the beer before Cas, who sat stiffly on the imitation leather bench.

“So, what's up?” he asked as he sat opposite.

“I was hoping to speak to you. About Anna.”

“Don't know what I can tell you that you don't already know. Nothing happened that night, if that's what you're asking.”

“No, I know.” Cas took a drink and collected his thoughts. “You said you have a younger brother. Sam?”

Dean nodded, trying to figure out where this was going.

“I was curious. You said sometimes they have to 'test the waters' and I was wondering . . . Hoping . . .”

Dean brought the beer to his lips and watched Cas's expressions change, going through several thoughts and emotions in a matter of seconds.

“You want to know how to deal. What to do when they push so hard you think you'll go insane.” He lowered the bottle as Cas relaxed into the seat. “Did she tell you where she was for those three days?”

Cas nodded and took a drink. “She vaguely remembers meeting a friend at a club, who then introduced her to another friend, who suggested they go to a party. She also vaguely remembers doing body shots and what may or may not have been LSD. At some point she decided she was hungry, called a cab, got distracted by the time it showed up, and gave the driver the first address she could think of. Her keys, purse, and phone were found by the cabbie, who thankfully returned them the next day.”

Dean grimaced. “She was at a house party for three days? Must have been a hell of a party.”

“She's not entirely certain it was the same party, as apparently there was a limo involved. Possibly sometime after the shots but before the psychedelics.”

“Wow.”

“Yes. And I have no idea what to do. She's rebelling against everything our parents taught. Partying, drinking, and now illicit drugs – I'm surprised she hasn't graduated to petty crimes. If I give her restrictions, she screams and cries and does what she wants anyway. If I give her free rein, she disappears for three days. I'm afraid for her.”

“Cas, I don't know if I'm the best to ask, honestly. I mean, I didn't have a clue when it came to raising Sam and he pulled that angsty rebelling bullshit, too. You just do the best you can, you know? Listen to what they're saying, even if they don't know the words. Hold them up when they let you and help them up when they fall. Show them the right way, don't just tell them. But let them make their own decisions, make their own mistakes. They won't learn otherwise.” He took a pull from his beer.

“Does that really work?”

“No idea. Sam seems pretty well-adjusted, all things considered. It doesn't stop you from worrying, of course. You'll always worry. But it does help. Lets you know you aren't completely fucking them up.”

Cas snorted a laugh, his smile reaching his eyes for a split second. “And if you do? Fuck them up, as you say?”

“Well, then you switch to whisky.” Dean smiled and Cas gave him a tight-lipped smile in return. Dean counted it as a victory.

“Winchester! Got a keg needs changing!” Dean winced as Ellen's voice cut through the room.

“That's my cue,” he said, trying to smile before he downed the rest of his beer. “You're welcome to hang out. I get off in an hour. You know, if you want to talk . . .” It was a long shot but he couldn't help himself.

Cas thought for a moment, emotions warring across his face. He finally shrugged, decision made. “I can entertain myself for an hour,” he said with a nod.

“Awesome. Want another beer?”

“Please.”

“Be right back.” Dean tried not to look giddy as he walked back to the bar, but he really didn't care that he failed miserably.

“Your friend gonna hang out for a while?” Ellen folded a fist to her hip and tried to look annoyed.

Dean beamed a smile at her before disappearing to the back to retrieve the keg. He couldn't bring himself to care if Ellen was irritated, or if the regulars saw him flirting with a guy. He was too happy to give a fuck what they thought.

He swung by Cas's table a few times, bringing him beer or water, throwing out one-liners just to see if he could make him laugh again. The hour dragged and business was slow, but he was happier than he'd been in longer than he could remember. It occurred to him on his third trip past Cas's table that it'd been so long since he had a friend, he didn't know what to do with himself.

“Hey,” he said as Cas looked up at him. “Need anything?”

“No, thank you,” Cas answered. A dust bunny drifted from the ceiling fan overhead and landed on Cas's shoulder. Dean reached out to brush it off without thinking.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“That's okay,” Cas said automatically.

Dean lost himself for a moment and smiled. “I'm almost done. Ready to get out of here?”

“Sure. Whenever you are.” His features were calm, hard to read, but his eyes danced. Whether because of the beer or amusement, Dean couldn't decide. He shook the thought from his head and moved back to the bar.

“You're done for the night, Winchester,” Ellen said and held out an envelope containing his tips. “Go on, boy. See you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Ellen,” he said with a smile and hurried to Cas's booth. He grinned down at Cas, who was lost in whatever the talking head on the television was saying. “You ready?”

“Yes,” he answered, scooting down the bench to stand next to Dean. “What do I owe you?”

“Your company?” Dean said it before his brain had time to catch up with his mouth. “Wow, that was cheesy. What I mean is, I could go for some breakfast. You hungry?”

“Starved.”

Dean smiled and gestured for Cas to lead the way to the door. “After you.”


	3. Chapter 3

The brightly-lit diner was completely new territory for Cas, all neon and sticky Formica. He wasn't wealthy by any stretch, but he did tend to frequent establishments that used actual wood for their furniture. He wasn't about to say anything and risk draining the enthusiasm from Dean's face, so he nodded and let himself be led to a booth near the front windows. He held back his smile when Dean ordered coffee for the both of them. He should feel bad for taking pleasure in the other man's attention, given the circumstances, but he couldn't help it. He liked Dean, despite his attempts not to. Going to his apartment had been a futile attempt to prove to himself that he wasn't obsessing, that he was simply appreciative. It was standing in the hallway, nervously sweating, unable to knock, that proved just how wrong he was. Of course that's when the elderly woman across the hall found him, just as he was abandoning the idea and turning back to the stairwell, formulating a plan to avoid Dean for the rest of his life. He was halfway through deciding to leave the country when the woman informed him of Dean's work schedule. He thanked her, simultaneously blessing and cursing her for the information. He went back to his apartment and argued with himself for several hours, playing every scenario over in his head, growing more and more frustrated as the night dragged on. He didn't remember picking up his car keys, only realizing he had driven to the bar when he pulled the key from the ignition. That was over an hour and several beers ago, and he still couldn't believe he'd done it.

He only noticed the silence stretching between them when the waitress set their coffee cups down with more noise than necessary. Dean gave her his order and Cas realized he hadn't even looked at the menu. He cleared his throat to try to cover his embarrassment.

“That sounds good. I'll have the same.” The waitress snapped her gum at him one last time before sauntering back to the kitchen.

“Sorry about that. The service is crap but the food is great.” Dean twisted his coffee cup in his hands. “So. Where were we?”

“I believe we were deciding to best course of action to take after we fuck up our siblings,” Cas deadpanned and took a sip of coffee to cover his smile. Dean threw his head back and laughed.

“Right. Switching to whisky. I don't know, man. I've screwed up with Sam a time or two, but never had to switch to anything harder than Jim and Jack. And from what I can see, you're not to blame for your sister's behavior.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. She hasn't been in my charge very long, but her behavior has taken a drastic turn since coming to live with me.”

“How long is that, if you don't mind me asking.”

Cas opened his mouth to answer, then paused. He didn't mind. He should mind, spilling his family's secrets to a stranger, but he didn't. He felt like he could tell Dean anything, everything. His ease around Dean worried him more than the secrets he kept.

Dean saw his hesitation and his smile dropped just enough for Cas to notice.

“That was really none of my business. Sorry.”

“Anna's been with me just over a year. Since our parents died.”

“Oh Cas, I'm sorry.” His sympathy turned his voice soft. He started to reach for Cas's hand before remembering himself. Cas noticed the gesture, though, and felt a warm glow start to build in his chest.

“Thank you. It was quite sudden. Car accident. I believe Anna's behavior is misplaced grief more than actual rebellion. She doesn't have much to rebel against, except being forced into adulthood.”

“That's rough, man. Has she talked to someone? A counselor or something? I know that really helped Sammy when . . .” Dean stopped, the light in his eyes flickering out. The waitress graciously intervened, dropping plates of food in front of them without a word. Cas didn't have time to ask for a refill before she was gone.

They ate in comfortable silence. Cas carefully filled every square of his waffle with syrup; Dean grinned at him before carelessly drenching his own. When their plates were mostly empty, Cas cleared his throat.

“What happened, if you don't mind me asking.”

“House fire, then heart attack. Mom died when I was four, Sammy was six months. Dad didn't handle it too well. His heart finally gave out a few years ago, but he hadn't really been there since Mom. Mostly left Sam and me to fend for ourselves. Or me to fend for Sam, more like. He started acting out, I guess he was sixteen or seventeen. Nothing too bad, just running with the wrong crowd mostly. He got picked up by the cops for disorderly conduct a few times, but was never prosecuted. The last time, a bunch of his friends got busted for possession. Sam didn't have anything on him, so I was able to talk the cop into giving him a lesser charge if I promised to get him into counseling. He hated me at first, but it worked. Seemed to straighten him out, get him back on the right track. He's in college now. Law school. He'll be taking the bar soon.”

“You must be very proud.” Cas reveled in the way Dean lit up when talking about his brother. Dean grinned and caught Cas's eyes for just a moment before turning away.

“You, uh,” he coughed. “You ready to blow this joint?”

“Whenever you are.” He started to pull his wallet from his pocket when Dean waved it away.

“Nope. It's on me tonight. You can get it next time.” He slid from the seat, headed for the cash register. Cas hesitated before following him. Next time. Dean wanted a next time. Cas filed that away as something to think about later.

Outside, Dean shoved his hands in his pockets, an unspoken agreement to walk Cas back to his car, still parked at the bar down the block.

“Thank you for dinner. Breakfast. Either way, thank you. I hope my presence at the bar doesn't cause you too much trouble.”

“You're welcome, and I really don't give a fuck what those assholes think.” Cas's eyebrows shot up at the brutal honesty. Dean shrugged. “Sorry, but they can kiss my ass. I spent most of my life absolutely miserable, pretending to be something I'm not. If they can't handle it, fuck 'em. It's on them, not me.”

Cas saw a shadow pass across Dean's face as he spoke. He knew that emotion, that pain. He absently bumped his elbow against Dean's as they walked. “Does your boss know you're . . .”

“Queer? I don't think so, but it's not really any of her business. She might suspect, especially after tonight, but, yeah.”

Cas hummed his agreement, hoping to hide the fact that his heart was doing cartwheels in his chest.

“What about you? You know, if you don't mind me asking.”

“I'm not sure. I don't know if there is a label for me. I find people attractive, but . . . I don't require much in the way of intimacy,” he said slowly, carefully.

“Yeah?”

“Well, I don't spend a great deal of time contemplating my sexuality.”

Dean just nodded, accepting everything Cas said without judgment or comment. Cas found it freeing to be open with someone about something he'd never spoken of before.

They stopped next to Cas's car, both unwilling to end the night. Cas glanced around at the empty parking lot and looked up at Dean in confusion. “Where is your car?”

“South Dakota, in about three dozen pieces.” He grinned and looked away. “My baby got smashed a few years back and I haven't had the time or money to fix her.”

“How do you get home?”

“Walk,” he said with a shrug.

Cas hit the button on his key fob, unlocking the car. “Get in.”

“No, man. That's okay,” Dean started to argue.

“Dean, we are going to the same place. Get in.”

Cas was a mile down the road when Dean broke the silence.

“So, at the risk of sounding corny . . .” He paused.

“Yes?”

“I had a good time tonight. Hanging out with you. I don't get to do that too often.”

Cas gave him a small smile. “According to your neighbor, you hardly have the time.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, well, she's not wrong. Law school ain't exactly cheap.”

“You pay your brother's tuition?”

“And room and board. And expenses. And monthly allowance. He got a hell of a scholarship, but it doesn't cover everything. He doesn't know, of course. Thinks it's all from Dad's life insurance, I guess. I make sure the money lands in his account on time and he doesn't question it.” He huffed a laugh. “One time, about two years ago, I got the flu. Couldn't work for a few weeks, started to fall behind on my bills. He offered to pay my rent. With my money.”

Dean chuckled and Cas smiled with him.

“You're a good brother.”

“No, I'm a shit parent. Big difference,” he said, suddenly sober. “I'm sorry about the other night. About Anna. I know you were beside yourself. If you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask.”

He turned to Cas, who put the car in park. He was surprised to see the emotion in Dean's eyes, the sincerity and concern.

“Of course, Dean. Thank you. I would offer the same, but you clearly have a better handle on it than I do.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” he said, his voice low as he pushed the car door open.

“Then the offer stands. If you need anything,” he punched the button and waited for the car alarm to chirp. “I mean it. Anything at all.”

Dean smiled at him, his features mostly hidden in the predawn darkness. “Thanks, Cas.”

They walked quietly up the stairs. Cas paused at the second floor landing and said a quick goodbye before heading up to his own apartment. He looked in on Anna and found her sprawled across the bed in her room. It was only after he'd undressed and slid into bed that he realized he was smiling.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean took one last glance at Cas before closing and locking his door. He let a sigh escape as he moved through the apartment. That was one of the best dates he'd been on in a long time, if ever. Was it a date? He furrowed his brow and reached down to untie his laces. Maybe “conversation” would be a better term. After all, he barely knew Cas. Maybe he should stick to “friendly” terms for now before diving into the deep end. Yeah, he decided, Cas was his friend. Nothing more, and there wasn't anything wrong with that. Still, he couldn't help but grin when he thought of Cas walking beside him, elbows bumping and fingers brushing. He climbed into the shower, stubbornly ignoring the throb of his cock every time he thought of those blue eyes or disheveled hair. Friends. Cas was his friend. He absolutely was not going to masturbate to thoughts of his gravel-over-velvet voice, especially not after only seeing the guy twice in his life. No, he chided himself, rubbing the washcloth down his thighs. If he was going to think about anyone it was going to be Ms. November, with her bronze skin and deep brown eyes and full red lips and . . .

He groaned through his orgasm, teeth clenched. He waited for his heart rate to calm and his breathing to even out, then finished his shower and stepped out. He noted the time when he made it to the bedroom. He cursed under his breath, hating the late nights and early mornings and constant lack of sleep.

“Soon,” he rebuked himself. “Sammy's graduating soon.” He crawled into bed without bothering with clothes. He curled around his pillow, goosebumps rising where the cool sheets grazed across his bare skin, and drifted easily to sleep.

Blue eyes with flecks of silver, circled in gray. Pink lips, thick and soft. Dark hair sticking at odd angles as long slender fingers raked through it. Strong hands and lean muscle under tan skin. A twitch of a smile revealing the tip of a tongue behind teeth. Mouth opening wide, eyes sparkling as lips closed over his cock, rock hard and dripping. Lips plump and flushed, slick with spit, swallowing him whole . . .

Dean woke with a start as the last of the orgasm rolled through him. He groaned, first in pleasure, then at the sticky mess.

“Really?!” he panted, staunchly ignoring whom he had been dreaming about. The come on his skin and sheets cooled and he absently remembered the last wet dream he'd had, more than a decade ago.

“I can't fucking believe this shit,” he mumbled, dragging himself out of bed, pulling the sheets with him. He stripped the bed and cleaned himself up, leaving the mess in a pile to be dealt with later. He pulled on a pair of boxer-briefs and flopped onto the couch. He tried to clear his mind, determined to leave figuring out what the dream meant until the morning.

He woke to stiff muscles and a headache. A glance at his phone showed he had just enough time to dress and grab coffee before meeting Benny for a ride to the job site. He threw the pile of come-covered sheets into the washing machine to soak and quietly thanked the powers that be for his lack of morning wood. Whatever this was with Cas, he needed to get himself under control.

The day was cold and the work was tedious. Hanging drywall wasn't Dean's favorite part of the job but it offered a nice distraction. He only let his thoughts wander to Cas once, during his lunch break, and only long enough to wonder if he was as tired as Dean was. He probably didn't have to get up at the ass crack of dawn, he mused, though Dean still had no idea what he did for a living. The crew boss called him back to work before he could follow that train of thought any further.

He stopped at the apartment long enough to change shirts and start the laundry. Friday nights usually meant hauling kegs and cases of beer while looking as menacing as possible, and that night was no different. By the time Garth cut everyone off, he was dead on his feet and dreading the three mile walk to his apartment. 

He was so tired he didn't notice the little silver sedan that pulled up next to him until the horn sounded.

“Dean,” Cas called from behind the wheel, pulling to a stop.

“Cas? What are you doing here? It's late. Shouldn't you be sleeping or something?” Dean tried to give his most winning smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“I thought you might need a ride,” he said simply.

Dean shrugged and pulled open the passenger door.

“Well,” Cas continued as Dean slid into the car, “I thought I would offer you breakfast, but you look like you're about to pass out.”

Dean couldn't help but laugh. “Tell me what you really think, Cas.”

Cas gave him a slight frown and pulled away from the curb. “I think you look exhausted and that it would be more polite to postpone our next . . . conversation . . . until you've had adequate rest.”

“It's just an expression, buddy,” he said with a smile, “but you're right. Nine hours on the job site, eight or nine hours at the bar . . . Yeah, I could use some rest.”

Cas hummed in agreement and drove on. Maybe it was the exhaustion or the previous night's dream or the way Cas's hair curled behind his ear; Dean wasn't sure but he took the chance before he could regret it.

“I am disappointed, you know. About messing up our date.” He glanced over at Cas and saw his expression change ever so slightly.

The silence stretched between them and Dean started to question his decision. They pulled into the parking lot outside their building and Cas shut off the engine but didn't move to open his door.

“Dean,” he started very quietly, but Dean cut him off.

“I'm sorry, man. That was too much, I know. I appreciate the ride.” He ran his hand through his hair and considered his ability to actually climb the flight of stairs to his apartment. He started to open the car door when Cas laid a hand on his arm.

“I would like to reschedule.” He glanced up through his eyelashes. “Our date, I mean. If that's okay with you?”

“Yeah, Cas. I'd like that.” Dean smiled and Cas's eyes lit up. Dean thought he could see the barest hint of pink on his cheeks. “Um, I'm off the construction job Saturdays and Sundays and off at the bar on Mondays and Tuesdays, so I'm not the easiest guy to schedule things with.”

Cas scrunched his brow and narrowed his eyes in thought. Dean thought it might be the cutest damn thing he'd ever seen. “I have late classes on Mondays, but Tuesday would work.”

“Class?”

“I teach business. Sales and marketing, mostly. Monday and Thursday are my continuing education days – late classes for people with day jobs.”

“Huh. Professor Cas.”

“Professor Novak,” Cas corrected.

“Pick me up at six, Professor?”

“Tuesday evening at six. That would be acceptable,” Cas nodded.

“It's a date.” Dean grinned and climbed out of the car, waiting for Cas to come around. “Where are you taking me, if you don't mind me asking. Want to make sure I don't overdress.”

Cas answered with a soft laugh, and the low sound went straight to the pit of Dean's stomach. “I was thinking the Tipperary. It's a small pub not far from campus. You would be fine in what you are wearing now.” He opened the door and pressed a hand to Dean's back, leading him in.

“Over on Live Oak?” he asked as they went up the stairs. Cas nodded. “I've passed by there a few times. Always meant to go in but haven't had the chance.”

“I like it. It has a reputation for being the haunt of stuffy old professors, so most of the students avoid it.”

Dean stopped at the second floor landing. “If your colleagues are going to be there, I mean . . . Do you really think it's a good idea? With me there?” Why was English suddenly so difficult?

Cas stared at him for a moment, unblinking, and Dean felt like he was reading his soul.

“You mean is it okay for my colleagues to see me on a date with another man?” Dean nodded. “I don't see why it wouldn't be. Their opinion of me doesn't matter, and they all assume I'm a socially awkward virgin anyway. I'll probably be congratulated.”

Dean ducked his head to hide his laugh. “Then I'll see you Tuesday.” He held out his hand and Cas held it for a split second before shaking it.

“See you Tuesday. Goodnight, Dean.”

“G'night, Cas.” He turned to unlock his door, grinning like an idiot and absolutely not sneaking a glance at Cas's ass before he disappeared up the stairs. Fuck, it was going to be a long weekend.


	5. Chapter 5

He didn't know specifically what it was that compelled him to stay up until two in the morning and then get in the car and drive to that little bar. He just knew he had to see Dean again. A part of him wondered if he was real, if the waffles and light touches weren't just his imagination. So he didn't question it until he was sitting on the dark street, watching staff members trickle out of establishments, hoping that he hadn't missed him. When Dean finally emerged Cas was caught motionless, staring, taking in the tall figure as he stumbled slightly down the sidewalk on bowlegs and well-worn boots. The way he shifted on his feet, as if he was already half-asleep, compelled Cas into action, pulling even with him and calling his name as he crept the car down the road. What happened on the road was a blur of wishful thinking, hoping, praying, and thanking all the gods for giving him the right words at the right time.

When Dean said “date” he was pretty sure time stopped, if only for a moment. He started to speak and Dean apologized, again, and his fondness for the man grew and he was pushing out words, forgetting to breathe, until Dean smiled and suddenly things were right again. When Dean called him “professor” there was a curl of heat in his stomach that he hadn't felt in a long time and he had to take a moment to balance himself. Dean asked a question and he said the first thing that came to mind. He craved a touch and reached for it and wondered at the ease of their conversation when his skin felt like it was on fire.

Dean asked something important and he had to pause and play back the last few minutes to figure out what he was trying to say without saying it. He said what he felt was the truth and was delighted when Dean laughed. He would do an awful lot to see those green eyes shimmer like they did in that moment. Then they were parting and Cas had to go upstairs to his lonely apartment and cold bed, and he suddenly hated the concept of weekends.

Anna was gone, but at least she left a note and a promise to call. It wasn't much, but after the events of the last few months, it was a vast improvement. His answering machine blinked with a new message, but it was either Michael or Raphael and they could wait until morning. He closed himself in his bedroom and carefully stripped down, folding his slacks over a hanger and dropping his oxford into a basket to be taken to the cleaners. He looked down at his white cotton undershirt and boxers and wondered if his colleagues weren't on to something with the “awkward virgin” theory. A stray thought as to what Dean wore to bed slipped through as he slid between the sheets. The thought was curious rather than sexual but he still felt the blush spread across his face.

He woke a little after dawn and attacked a stack of papers he'd left ungraded too long. Anna wasn't in her room, but he refused to worry. He remembered the message on the landline as he was brewing a second pot of coffee and hit play while he dumped in grounds.

“Hello Castiel,” the rich timbre filtered through tinny speakers. “Haven't heard from you this week. Call me.”

He set the carafe in place and tried not to make rude noises. Raphael checking up on him, probably at Michael's behest. Cas knew Raph cared little for him or his siblings, prizing the name and the status it brought more than the humans he shared it with. Status that mattered very little in a Kansas college town. He resolved to call Michael when he stopped for lunch and returned to his grading.

His stomach growled at one and he sank back into the chair. He hated every person, every decision that led him to his current position. He hated his high school guidance counselor for suggesting he go into teaching, his father for insisting he learn the family business, his former masseuse for not permanently ridding him of the knots in his shoulders and back. Mostly he hated his students and their inability to craft a decent proposal. He hated this time of year, the vague beginnings when grades weren't yet being considered and everyone was just waiting for midterms to take the course seriously.

He stepped into the kitchen and cleaned out the coffee pot and absently wondered if Dean was up yet. He set the clean carafe back in the machine and picked up his phone, dialing Michael's number.

“Hello brother,” Michael answered on the second ring.

“Michael.” He hated the stiff posture he automatically adopted when speaking to his older brothers.

“How are you? How is our dear sister?”

“I'm fine. Anna is with friends.” It wasn't a lie; it just wasn't the whole truth.

“Good. I am glad you get along well together.”

There was a pregnant pause that Cas didn't care to fill. His stomach gave another grumble of hunger and his will broke.

“Raphael called.”

“I assumed he would. I have no opinion on the matter.”

“But you know why he called.”

“Of course.”

Cas sighed. “If there is nothing else, I need to return to my grading.”

“Oh yes, our own absent-minded professor.” Cas winced at the insult but remained silent. “I should remind you of birthdays and anniversaries coming up, but you care little, I'm sure.”

Cas felt his cheeks flame. “I care, Michael. I am, however, rarely welcome.”

“If you came home more often, perhaps you would be.”

“Was there anything else? Despite your opinion, I am rather busy.”

“No, brother. I was simply curious how you were getting along.”

“Your concern is touching. Goodbye, Michael.”

“Goodbye, Castiel.”

He was so far removed from society as to be forgotten. He never cared for the company he was forced to keep for the sake of family appearances. While he remained in New York, he preferred the quiet sanctuary of the library or the back garden, the only places he felt he could breathe. His siblings basked in the attention while he shied from it. He was the odd man out, the disappointment, the peg that didn't perfectly align with his parents' plan. Of course they feigned concern when he refused Raphael's offer, and later when he announced his position at what Raphael referred to as a “state school” with a sneer, but he knew they were all relieved.

His shoulders drooped as he began pulling food from the refrigerator. He wished he could call Gabe, or even Luci, just to speak with a member of his family who actually enjoyed hearing from him. The thought of interrupting either of them stayed his hand. They were both important men with important business meetings and important clients and little time for their youngest brother.

Cas was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door. He looked down at his rumpled tee and too-big jeans and determined he didn't look too terrible to answer. He pulled it open to find Dean standing on the other side, eager smile making his eyes shine.

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

“I, uh, thought I'd bring you breakfast . . . lunch . . . to make up for you being out so late last night.”

Cas noticed the brown paper bag cradled in his arms and stepped back, inviting him in. 

“Apologies for my appearance, and the state of the apartment . . .” he trailed off, wondering why he was so flustered. He led Dean to the kitchen and began putting away everything he'd laid out.

“No worries, man. I always wondered what teachers looked like on their days off.” He said it with a twitch of his eyebrow and Cas wasn't sure if it was meant to be suggestive. “I didn't know what you like so I got a little of everything.”

He started pulling things from the bag and Cas had to stifle a laugh. “Did you leave anything at the bakery for the other customers?”

Dean just grinned and continued unwrapping the food. There were soft delicate pastries and huge cakey muffins and golden buttery scones, still warm from the oven. Cas picked up a lightly glazed roll and breathed in the smell of cinnamon and sugar. He caught Dean watching him and couldn't quite read the look on his face.

“Thank you. This is too much.”

“Yeah, well, I figured you'd let me stay and help you out with some of it.”

“Yes, of course.” Cas set out plates and started the coffee pot. When the coffee was done, they moved to the living room. Cas was a little ashamed of the mess he'd made while grading, student papers and files and pens scattered on the coffee table around his laptop. Dean seemed unfazed, setting his mug on a clear corner and easing onto the couch.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked.

“I was taking a break when you knocked, actually. I can only handle the idiocy for so long.”

“That bad, huh?” He pulled an essay from the stack and scanned the first page. “Well, they got me beat. I have no idea what any of that means.”

“Neither do they, and they've had the benefit of my lecture. I'm sure you would have no problem were you attending my class.”

“I don't know. Maybe. Sammy's the brains of the family, not me.” He shrugged and replaced the paper to its proper stack.

“I'm sure that's not true.”

“Well, I mean, I thought about going to college for about half a minute, but I couldn't see how to balance it and work and taking care of Sam. Still think about going back, maybe after he graduates.”

“What would you study?” He took a bite of the roll and tried not to let the moan escape his mouth. By the look on Dean's face, he was unsuccessful.

“Um,” he licked his lips as a blush crept up his cheeks, “literature, maybe. Engineering. I don't know. Haven't really thought about it.”

They both jumped when the phone rang.

“Please excuse me.” Cas stepped into the kitchen and grabbed the receiver just before the machine picked up. “Hello?”

“Castiel. I believe I asked you to call me, not Michael.”

“Hello, Raphael.” He leaned back against the counter and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I have a proposition for you. I want you to meet me at the estate tomorrow for brunch.”

“I'm busy tomorrow. I have papers to grade and lectures to prepare—“

“Ten o'clock,” Raphael cut him off. “I'm sending the plane to pick you up at seven your time, and the car will be waiting when you arrive. See you tomorrow, Castiel.”

Cas was about to speak when Raph hung up. He replaced the receiver and commended himself for not slamming it repeatedly onto the countertop.

“Bad news?” Dean asked when he returned to the living room, and Cas warmed at the genuine concern in his voice.

“I have to fly to New York in the morning to see my brother.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Wow. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I'm sure the family is fine. He said he has a proposition for me, whatever that means.”

“So, wait. Your brother calls and expects you to just jump on a plane? What about your classes?”

“I'll be home well before my first class Monday.”

Dean looked confused and Cas tried not to think about how adorable it was.

“My brother,” he started and plopped himself down on the floor. “My brother is sending the company jet, so yes, he expects me to just jump on a plane.”

“Company jet,” Dean prompted when he didn't continue.

He took a large bite of his cinnamon roll and savored the taste, and the company, mentally cringing at all the ways Dean could react to what he was about to say.

“My brothers, my family, are very powerful people. They are CEOs and CFOs and COOs and board members to some of the largest corporations in the country. In several countries, actually.” He glanced up and caught Dean watching him intently. Dean's posture was easy, comfortable, and Cas release the breath he had been holding.

“So, you're wealthy.”

“No. My family is wealthy. I was cut off the day I refused a promotion at my brother's firm.”

“Cut off?”

“Cut off, as in my trust fund withheld, my position in the company dissolved, and my standing in the family . . .” He dropped his head, not wanting Dean to see the pain of the memory of that day. “I had my clothes, a few personal possessions, and the cash in my wallet. My brother Gabe bought me a plane ticket, and Luci gave me his credit card. Mine were canceled before I made it through security.”

“Why Kansas?”

“It was the first flight listed on the departures board.”

They were quiet for a long time. Cas finished his roll and excused himself to the bathroom. He was surprised Dean was still there on the sofa, calmly eating his muffin and sipping his coffee, when he returned.

“You thought I'd be gone.”

“The thought did cross my mind, yes.” He was not surprised Dean could read his usually passive expression so easily.

Dean just nodded and finished his breakfast. He moved to the kitchen to refill his mug and Cas followed. He was comforted at the way Dean moved so easily through the space. Like he belonged, there, with Cas. He shook his head at the thought.

“You seem undisturbed by all this.”

Dean took his coffee cup and refilled it for him. “Just processing. I mean, I knew you weren't from around here, and you talk like you should be somewhere high class, so I can't say I'm shocked.” He leaned his hip against the counter and smiled. Cas almost smiled back.

“So, let me see if I've got it straight. Anna,” he started counting on his fingers, “Gabe, Luci who's a guy, and the brother sending the plane.”

“Raphael. I don't know if I've mentioned Michael, and I know I haven't mentioned Rachel or Alfie.”

“Seven of you.”

“Eight with me included,” Cas nodded.

“Your mom had eight kids?” Dean looked incredulous and Cas huffed a laugh.

“My mother had three children. The rest of us are adopted. Michael and Lucifer are twins, born to my parents when they were very young. My mother always wanted a large family, and they had the means, so they started adopting. Luci crassly refers to it as “collecting children.” First was Gabriel, then Raphael, Rachel, Alfie, then me. I was the baby for three years when Mother had Anna.”

“Wow.” Dean took a long sip of his coffee and stared into the middle distance. Cas let him process the information, moving around him, cleaning the dishes and repacking the food.

“So,” Dean started, blinking. “Man, I have so many questions that are none of my business,” he finished with a laugh and Cas was moved at his honesty.

“So we have something to discuss on our date.” At that Dean's expression softened.

“Guess we do. I need to get ready for work and you have to get back to grading.”

“Unfortunately, yes. Thank you for breakfast.”

“Sure thing. See you Tuesday. Have a good flight.”

“Thank you. See you Tuesday.”

They stood awkwardly in the kitchen, goodbyes said but neither eager to part.

Without warning, Dean leaned down and kissed him, soft and quick, and was out the door before Cas could react.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean had no idea what possessed him to kiss Cas. He was thinking about how the flush on his cheeks made his eyes bright and then Cas licked a stray bit of frosting from the corner of his mouth and Dean wondered what it tasted like, that frosting on Cas's tongue, and he lost all impulse control.

He'd smelled like cinnamon.

Dean knew he had to apologize, but he had no idea how. “I'm sorry” just wouldn't cut it.

By the time Benny dropped him off Tuesday afternoon, he'd resigned himself to Cas's rejection. He had just enough time to shower and dress before running upstairs.

He stared down at the welcome mat and took a deep breath. He heard shuffling behind the door when he knocked, and tried not to get his hopes up.

Cas opened the door slowly. “Dean?”

“I know we planned this differently, but I need to talk to you first.”

Cas nodded and held the door open. He led Dean to the living room, but neither sat down.

“I, um . . . I owe you an apology, Cas. What I did was wrong. I should never have violated your space like that. I'm sorry, and I understand if you don't want to see me anymore.”

He let out a breath slowly, watching Cas's every move for anything that told him if they were okay or not. Cas finally looked up, his expression blank.

“I accept your apology,” he said carefully. “What you did was . . . shocking . . . and I would appreciate a little warning next time.”

Dean was pretty sure his ears were no longer communicating properly with his brain. “Next time? But you said . . .”

“That doesn't mean I haven't kissed before, or that I don't crave that kind of intimacy from time to time. I just prefer to be forewarned, especially in something as new as this.”

“And this is?”

“Dating? Getting to know one another? New friends who occasionally kiss?” Cas's expression softened into an almost-grin and Dean beamed.

“Okay. So, how was New York?”

“Cold. The meeting was a farce, and I spent most of my time locked in the library thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“My family. My job. Us.”

“What conclusions did you come to, if I may ask?”

“That I enjoy spending time with you. That your friendship means a lot to me, despite our short and rather strange acquaintance.” He paused and let out a breath. He dropped his eyes from Dean's. “That I am lonely for companionship. That I can still feel your lips on mine.

“I know we haven't known each other very long,” he continued, looking back up at Dean, “and I have no idea where I want this to go, if anywhere. I do know that I did not enjoy not speaking to you. I know that should bother me, yet it doesn't. And I know that anyone who goes to the effort of apologizing deserves another chance.”

Dean took a moment to take everything in, analyzing what he said and what he didn't say. “Are we good, then?”

Cas nodded. “We're good.”

“Dinner?”

“Okay.”


	8. Chapter 8

It was a mostly quiet ride to the pub. Cas drove, and hid a laugh when Dean flinched at the opera that played when he started the car. He was a bit shocked when Dean didn't ask to change it, but accepted his fate and stared out the window as Donna Anna asked Don Ottavio to be patient as she grieved her father's death. Cas turned it down to be kind and Dean visibly relaxed.

“Not a fan of opera?” Cas teased.

“I just don't know enough about it, I guess. If I knew what they were saying, maybe.”

Cas hummed an agreement and switched to the local classic rock station. A crash of chords from Pink Floyd's “Wish You Were Here” filled the car and the corner of Dean's mouth quirked into a smile.

“Did you ever see them live?” Cas asked.

“Nope. Dad saw them in St. Louis in '87, but I was too young to go. Had to take care of Sammy. I was going to see them in Kansas City in '94, but Sam had some school thing and I couldn't afford it. You?”

“Summer of '94. Yankee Stadium. My brothers and I told my parents we were going to the ballet. It was my first and only rock concert.”

“How high did you get?” Cas could hear the smile in Dean's voice.

“Completely toasted. Of course, I didn't know it at the time. All I knew was this very nice couple had brownies to share, and it would have been rude to refuse.”

When Dean laughed it didn't feel like he was laughing _at_ Cas, and he smiled despite himself. His smile fell as he maneuvered into a metered space down the block from the bar. Parallel parking made him nervous.

“Oh, you got it, man. Another good foot at least. There you go. Perfect.” Dean smiled at him and Cas realized that nothing about his guidance was patronizing. It just was. He started to wonder how he deserved this man's kindness and then Dean was leaning forward, focused on his lips.

“You told me to warn you,” Dean said with the same patient tone. “So consider this your warning.”

He leaned forward and stopped an inch away from Cas, silently waiting for permission. Cas nodded before he had time to panic and suddenly there were lips on his. Dean was kissing him. Again. His eyes shot open and found Dean staring back, watching his expression. It was chaste and soft and barely lasted a second but it sent Cas reeling.

“Was that okay?” Dean asked softly.

“Yes,” Cas said, a bit breathless.

“You wanna go in?”

“Okay.” Cas shut off the car and climbed out, moving on autopilot.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked when he came around the car.

“Yes. It's just . . . It's been a long time.” He tried not to blush.

“Okay,” is all Dean said, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Lead the way.”

Cas stepped up and pulled open the heavy oak door. The building was filled with dark oak and mahogany and stained glass. Half of the bar and most of the booths were filled with older men and women, most wearing either blazers with elbow patches or power suits, as if desperately maintaining their image as scholars; men and women of a different time.

A few spoke to Cas as he passed, raising a glass or a hand, nodding with “Professor Novak” and raised eyebrows. He nodded acknowledgment in return, conscious of the weight of Dean's hand.

“Bar or booth?” he asked.

“Booth,” Dean answered immediately. For all his confidence, Cas could see how uncomfortable he was. He led them to a booth against the back wall, well away from his colleagues.

“So,” he said as soon as the waitress left with their order.

“So,” Dean sighed, looking like he might actually relax.

“I don't really know how to do this,” Cas said after a long pause. Dean huffed a laugh and stopped fidgeting.

“Me neither, man. I guess we just talk, right?”

Cas shrugged. “It's never been a problem for us before.”

“Okay, so tell me more about your trip,” Dean said as the waitress dropped off their drinks.

“Well, it was mostly uneventful. I met Raphael at the estate. Spent the rest of the day in the library. Returned here that evening. Finished my grading and went to bed.”

“You didn't see any family while you were there?”

“I had a late lunch with Michael's wife and daughters. My brothers were all either out of town or in meetings.”

“So what did Raphael want?”

“He offered me a position in his firm. Again. I turned him down. Again.” He watched for Dean's reaction over the rim of his glass. When he didn't react, Cas continued. “He refuses to accept that I'm happy in the position I'm in. He wants me to use my degrees and stop wasting my time. He simply can't understand why I would turn down a seven-figure starting salary for five figures at a public university in the middle of nowhere.”

“Why did you turn it down?”

“Because I hate being under someone's thumb. Because I enjoy my freedom. Because I hate hiding who I am.”

“What did he say when you turned him down?”

“Quite a few vulgar slurs.”

“He's the charmer of the family, then.”

“Funniest, actually. Luci is the charmer. Gabe is the prankster. Michael is just Michael.”

“And you?”

“Sexiest, obviously.”

“Well, obviously.” Dean winked at him and he tried to hide his smile behind his glass. “That's only five of you. What about the others?”

“You don't want to hear the predominant character traits of my ridiculously large family.”

“I do, actually. It's always just been me and Sammy. I can't imagine what it would be like to have so many brothers and sisters.”

Cas took a sip of his beer and tilted his head, eyes locked on Dean's. There was a quick internal argument and he decided to forge ahead.

“Anna is the wild one. She's the surprise, so it's expected. Rachel was the arbitrator. She would listen to the pettiest arguments as if they were life or death. Alfie was the favorite. Incredibly kind, selfless, giving. You couldn't help but love Alfie.”

“What happened to them?” Dean spoke quietly, lending weight to his words.

Cas took a deep breath and forced himself to speak before he could change his mind. “Murdered. Random acts of violence. Rachel after she stepped in to defend others. Alfie, two years later, while trying to assist someone less fortunate.”

“I'm so sorry, Cas.” Dean's hand covered his on the tabletop. Cas couldn't look away even as tears threatened to roll down his cheeks.

“I miss them terribly. More than I miss my parents, and I know that's a horrible thing to say. They never cared about the power or the money, only what good they could do. They were the heart of the family. I left New York before they were killed, and I regret the time I didn't spend with them.”

Dean didn't say anything but didn't drop his gaze. He rubbed soft slow circles on the back of Cas's hand with his thumb, and Cas thought it might be the most comforting gesture he'd received in years. He was the first to look away.

“I'm sorry. You don't want to hear my tragic backstory.”

“I do, actually. This is the stuff I'm gonna need to know.”

Cas gave him a questioning look.

“I figure we'll end up together eventually. Might as well start getting used to it.” He grinned, dissipating the tension.

“Thinking ahead.”

“Exactly.”

They were quiet for a moment, and Cas liked that they could sit in comfortable silence without the awkwardness he was accustomed to. The waitress returned with their food and Dean released his hand. He wondered at the loss he felt in his bones.

Dean took a bite and grinned at him. “Okay. Rapid fire round.”

“Okay . . .” Cas hesitated, no idea exactly what Dean meant.

“Favorite book.”

“ _The Killer Angels_ by Michael Shaara.”

“Nice. Civil War strategy. Um, _On The Road_ , followed closely by _Slaughterhouse-Five_. Favorite movie.”

“ _It's a Wonderful Life_.”

“Dude, seriously? Nothing from the past six decades?”

“I rather enjoyed _Pan's Labyrinth_.”

“Of course you did. Tie between _Galaxy Quest_ and _Princess Bride_. Favorite album.”

“I could name my top ten and you would recognize none of them,” Cas said with a small smile.

“Lots of opera, huh?”

“Not all, but yes.”

“Okay. _Led Zeppelin II_. Favorite food.”

“Bacon cheeseburgers.”

Dean's mouth fell open. “No way.”

“What?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Is it so hard to believe?”

“No, I just expected some fancy French thing.”

“I quite enjoy French cuisine, actually. What about you?”

“Pretty sure the closest thing I've had to French cuisine was a waitress with a bad accent.” He smiled and Cas barely contained a snort of laughter. “I'd have to say bacon cheeseburgers are my fave, too.”

“Guess we know what we're doing for our next date.”

Dean grinned and Cas relished how easy it was to get that reaction.

“Favorite place,” Dean continued.

Cas took a bite and thought. “There's a bookstore in Florence, Italy. It's tiny, absolutely stuffed with books, floor to ceiling, hanging from shelves, stacked precariously all over the place. It smells like vanilla and stone dust. There's an ancient green velvet wing chair towards the back, right next to a window. That's my favorite place.”

“Wow,” Dean stared at him.

“Too much?”

“No, it's perfect. I mean, I was kind of expecting something high class, but that was you. Perfectly you.”

Cas tried not to blush and failed miserably. “Yours?”

“A field in the middle of nowhere. Fourth of July. I spent Dad's beer money on a box of fireworks, and Sammy and I lit up the sky. He was thirteen; I was seventeen. I took a beating for it, but it was worth the look on that kid's face.”

The waitress interrupted, taking their dishes and bringing refills. It gave them a moment to compose themselves, and they were both silently grateful.


	9. Chapter 9

“Well,” Dean started, “we've established that we're a couple of saps.”

“Nothing shameful in having emotions. You are human. Unless there's something you're not telling me,” Cas smirked.

Dean gave him a relieved laugh. “No, I know. I'm just . . . I'm not used to . . .”

“I'm not either, if that helps at all.”

“It does, actually.” Dean smiled.

“You ready to go?” Cas asked after a pause.

“Whenever you are.” Dean downed the rest of his beer while Cas paid the bill.

When he started the car, Cas realized they had been on their date for a little over two hours. He would have sworn it was much longer. “Thank you. For going out with me.”

“Thank you for giving me a second chance.” Dean smiled and Cas memorized the way his eyes shone, lit only by street lamps.

At the second stoplight, Dean broke the silence. “Can I . . .” he started, but stopped.

“Can you . . .?”

“I feel like such an idiot,” he mumbled under his breath. “Can I hold your hand?”

He didn't answer except to hold his hand palm up between the seats, waiting for Dean to take it.

“You don't sound like an idiot. I appreciate you respecting my boundaries, even though you have no idea what they are.”

“Yeah, it would be a whole lot easier if _I_ knew.”

“It would be easier if I knew.”

“So, do we want to talk about this now, or . . .?”

Cas shrugged. “I don't know what I can tell you that you haven't already figured out.”

“No, man, there's a lot you can tell me.” He let out a slow breath. “I need to know what's okay and what's not. Whatever this is,” he squeezed Cas's hand, “I like it and I don't want to fuck it up.”

Cas was quiet for the rest of the drive, doing his best to not freak out about the questions he didn't want to ask himself. Dean let go of his hand as he pulled into the parking lot. Neither moved when he turned off the car.

“Do you want to come up?” He asked quietly, almost timidly.

“Okay.” Dean sounded less sure than Cas did.

Cas laced their fingers together as soon as he was out of the car and led Dean into the building.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked softly when they hit the second floor landing.

“I'm sure. Just don't anticipate too much,” Cas answered, starting toward the third floor.

As soon as they were in the apartment they were as awkward as teenagers. Cas checked his messages (none) and his sister's room (empty) and returned to find Dean standing in the middle of the living room with his hands in his pockets as if he was afraid to touch anything.

“Okay, so, straightforward might be the best way, no matter how embarrassing.” Cas could see the physical release of tension in Dean's shoulders when he said it. He crossed to him and took his hand. “I would like to continue our conversation, but I'm extremely tired and stressed from the weekend. Would you . . . I would . . .” He swallowed, feeling the heat radiate off his cheeks. “I just want to be held.”

Dean gripped his hand and waited until Cas looked up. “Okay.” And it was so earnest and so compassionate that Cas didn't know how to respond. He turned and led Dean back to the bedroom without another word.

Dean took it upon himself to stop in the bathroom, giving Cas a few minutes to get undressed and freak out. He stripped as carefully as always and slipped between the sheets. Dean came in a minute later, oxford and jeans carefully folded.

He placed his clothes on the corner of the dresser. “I don't have a t-shirt or anything. I mean, I could run down and get one.” He stood in the doorway dressed only in boxer-briefs and socks, self-consciously clasping his hands over himself.

Cas laughed, low and soft. “Top drawer, right side.”

Dean pulled out the first tee he found. “Is this okay?”

Cas hummed an answer and did not watch Dean pull his favorite AC/DC t-shirt (an ironic gift from Gabriel) over his head and smooth it down his torso.

Cas reached up and clicked off the bedside lamp, then turned on his side, facing away from the door. Dean slid under the covers and pressed his chest to Cas's back, holding him tight with an arm around his waist. Cas could feel Dean's breath tickle the hair at the nape of his neck, and he curled their fingers together.

“I know we said we would talk, and we will, but can we just sleep tonight?” Cas couldn't help the emotion that crept into his voice and Dean squeezed his hand in answer.

“Sure, Cas.”

“What time do you have to be up?”

“Early, but I have my phone set. Don't worry. Go to sleep.”

“Thanks,” he whispered. He let himself lean back against Dean, and drifted off.

He awoke the next morning to the most irritating set of electronic beeps known to man, and a sudden loss of heat along his side. A thump followed immediately by a quiet “dammit” pulled Cas into reality.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just forgot where I was for a minute. Sorry. I was trying not to wake you.”

“You were just going to slip out without saying goodbye? No note? No 'thanks for the good time'?”

“Well, I was going to leave you my phone number, but if you're going to be all grumpy,” Dean smiled down at him and Cas couldn't help but give him a small smile in return. “No, I just figured if you didn't have to be up at this ungodly hour like I do, I would let you sleep.”

“I appreciate that, thank you. But I should probably be up anyway. I'm sure I can find something to do before my first class.”

“We really should talk about this,” Dean gestured to the bed.

“But not right now.”

“Not right now,” Dean conceded. “But soon.”

“Soon.” Cas threw back the quilt and sat up. He scooted down the bed a fraction when Dean sat down next to him.

“I'm taking the night off from the bar. Will you come down to my place, say around six? I'll cook and we can talk.”

“You cook?”

“I'm not a chef or anything, but Sam never complained.”

Cas leaned into him and Dean readily put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in close. Cas let himself enjoy the moment, enjoy the closeness, and smiled when Dean kissed the top of his head.

“Gotta go to work, buddy. See you at six.” He stood and pulled on his jeans and boots and gathered his things. Cas followed him to the door.

“See you at six,” he repeated as Dean left, and locked the door behind him. He instantly regretted not asking for a kiss, and that thought stayed with him for the next several hours.

His last class was over at one and he kept office hours until three. No one came in. He got most of the assignments graded and actively avoided thinking about Dean and their conversation. Nor did he think about the tender brush of lips across his shoulder as he fell asleep the night before. And he forcibly ignored the warmth that built in his chest when he forgot to not think about those things.

There was a note taped to his door when he got home.

_Got sent home early. Come down whenever you want. D_

He moved around his apartment following his normal afternoon routine, but with a little more urgency. Anna stepped into the hall just as he was pulling off his sweater.

“Hey, big brother. You have a hot date last night?”

“No. It was a fairly normal date. Why?” He untucked the tail of his oxford and walked into his bedroom, working on the buttons.

“Because I saw him leave this morning.”

Cas sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “It's not what you think.”

“Tell me what else it could possibly be.” Her tone was teasing, light, and that just embarrassed him more.

“I don't bring strange men home.”

“Never said you did. If I'm not mistaken, he was the guy from my misadventure in breaking and entering. Mr. 204?”

Cas nodded and refused to explain further.

“So you guys are . . .?”

“I honestly have no idea. We've spent time together, and I enjoy his company.”

“Oh, I can tell.” She gave him a sly smile and nodded toward the bed.

“Not like that. We slept together. Actual sleep.”

Anna finally seemed to understand how distressing the conversation was for him, and she dropped her smile. “I know you don't want to talk about it, especially with your baby sister, but I'm not going to judge you like they will. Michael and Raph, I mean. I'll respect whatever you decide to label yourself, _if_ you decide to label yourself. But I think it's important you know that you don't always stay the same, that it can change.”

“I don't like sex,” he said quietly, and he couldn't believe the words crossed his lips.

Anna shrugged a shoulder, unfazed. “Okay. But you like him, and maybe you need to think about what that means. And if you don't want to talk to me, you need to find someone you can talk to. Because shoving it down and ignoring it is making you miserable, and it's just not worth it.”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Now go talk to him or I will, and it won't be on your behalf. That man is too hot for words,” she mumbled, turning back to her room. Cas huffed a laugh and finished changing clothes. Blue jeans, a fresh t-shirt, and old running shoes weren't his usual date attire, but he doubted Dean would mind. He grabbed the six-pack he'd left chilling in the fridge and yelled goodbye to his sister on the way out the door. He forgot to be nervous until he was standing on Dean's welcome mat.

He knocked and heard “come in” shouted from somewhere in the apartment.

“Dean?” he called as he stepped in and closed the door behind him.

“Back here. Careful. Had a bit of an accident.”

Cas rounded the corner into what looked like the scene of a triple homicide. There were puddles of red everywhere: all over the floor, up the walls, across the counters, on every appliance, even a few spots on the ceiling.

“Who did you murder and do you need help hiding the body?” he called.

A laugh rang out from the bedroom and Dean stepped out wearing nothing but boxer-briefs, towel draped across his shoulders.

“My pot of tomato sauce and I had a fight.”

“Who won?”

“Undetermined. Give me a minute to get some clothes on. Make yourself at home.”

Cas set the beer on the table, and opened two when Dean walked into the room.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the bottle from Cas. “Hi.”

“Hello.”

“We need a code word, like Albuquerque or guinea pig.”

“For what?”

“For when I want to kiss you.”

“Oh.” Cas took a sip of his beer, his eyes locked on Dean's.

“Hey Cas?”

“Yes?”

“Albuquerque.”

“Okay.” And Dean was kissing him and it was as gentle and short as the last time and it left him a little breathless, even as chaste as it was.

“Eventually you'll stop looking like a deer in the headlights, right? You could give a guy a complex,” he said with a smile, and Cas let his expression soften.

“My apologies. I . . . I am not accustomed . . .”

“I understand, Cas. Doesn't mean I'm not going to tease you about it.” He brushed his hand down Cas's arm, squeezing just above his elbow before he let it drop. “So. My plan for a wonderful home-cooked meal is now coating every surface in my kitchen and I'll probably be cleaning for the next several months, so why don't you pick a movie and pick a restaurant and we'll order take-out.”

“Would you like some help?”

“Nope.” He smiled and handed Cas a stack of menus. He showed him how to work the entertainment system, and just as he turned to start on the mess, Cas caught his arm.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Albuquerque.”

Dean cupped his hands to Cas's jaw and pressed their lips together. Cas let his eyes flutter shut, and felt his heart thump in his chest when Dean backed away.


	10. Chapter 10

Dean was on his hands and knees scrubbing tomato sauce off the linoleum and he was grinning like an idiot. Grinning so hard his face hurt. But he couldn't stop and he wasn't about to try. He knew he was being ridiculous but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Cas liked him, and he liked Cas.

The walls and floor were decidedly more pink than they were before, but he thought he'd cleaned everything he could. Even climbed up on a chair and got the spots off the ceiling. His knees ached and his muscles protested, but he was done in just under an hour.

He walked into the living room and stopped next to the couch to watch a few minutes of _The Fifth Element_. Cas reached up and threaded their fingers together without looking away from the screen and Dean wondered if it was possible to do permanent damage to his face from smiling so much.

“I'm going to jump in the shower again, see if I can get rid of some of the garlic smell. Do you want to order for us? We can go pick it up when I get out.”

“I have no idea what you would want.”

“I'm easy. Not a big fan of rabbit food, but everything else is fair game.”

Cas nodded and looked like he was trying not to look terrified. Dean started to pull away and Cas tugged at his hand.

“Albuquerque.”

Dean let the laugh get caught in his throat as he pressed his lips to Cas's.

“You know,” he said when he straightened, “the code word was for me to ask you. You don't have to ask to kiss me. You can just, you know, kiss me. Anytime you feel like it.”

“It's only fair I give you the same warning.”

Dean was too overwhelmed to answer, so he said “guinea pig” and dropped a kiss on Cas's forehead. He caught his eye to make sure that was okay, then dropped his hand and took off for the bathroom.

He took the fastest shower he could manage, suddenly conscious that Cas had been waiting patiently, essentially alone in his apartment for over an hour. He quickly pulled on clean clothes and dropped all his stained clothes into the washer on his way back to the living room.

“Where are we headed?” He sat on the edge of the couch to lace up his boots.

“Well, I panicked and went with the safest option.”

“And that is?”

“Bell's Burgers.” Cas sounded defeated.

Dean laughed. “That's perfect, man. Do you mind driving? I can give you something for gas.”

“That's not necessary,” Cas said as he stood and pulled his keys from his pocket.

“How did you like the movie?” Dean asked on the way down to the car.

“I enjoyed it. Far more than I anticipated, to be honest.”

“Yeah?”

“On the surface it is violence and bad humor, but they managed to make it much deeper than that.”

“The power of love.”

“Indeed.”

“It's definitely in my top ten.”

They were quiet as Cas navigated the late rush-hour traffic. At a stoplight, Cas snuck his hand over the console and folded it around Dean's where it rested on his thigh. Dean started grinning again and turned just in time to catch a small smile playing on Cas's lips.

“I'll eventually get an actual smile, right? A real teeth and gums grin?”

Cas squeezed his hand. “Is it that important to you?”

“Well, yeah. I like making you smile.”

Cas nodded. “You know the saying 'children should be seen and not heard?'”

“Yeah?”

“One of my foster mother's took that to heart, so much so that I was selectively mute for almost a decade.”

“Wow.”

Cas huffed a laugh. “No showing emotion, because that could lead to noise. No laughter, no crying, no speaking except for prayers. Break the rules and you either got whipped with a belt, which you couldn't so much as whimper through, or sent to the 'quiet closet,' a cupboard in the basement she would lock you in, sometimes for hours at a time. In the dark, of course.”

“How was she not arrested for child abuse?”

“She was eventually. The summer I turned six. But the damage was already done. I have trouble with it even now, nearly thirty years after the fact.”

Cas pulled into the parking lot and Dean got out to pick up their order. As soon as they were back on the road, he slid his hand into Cas's.

“I'm sorry. I don't know why I burdened you with that.”

“It's not a burden, Cas. It's your life. I'm sorry I pushed.”

Cas waved off his apology.

“Is that why you have the, you know, intimacy thing?”

“I don't know. It could be a part of it, certainly, but I doubt it's wholly to blame. I didn't like much physical intimacy as a child, either, even before I was put in that home. Every time a new family came to interview me, the social worker would have to warn them. 'Castiel's not a hugger.'”

Dean laughed. “That must have been awkward.”

“Terribly. For everyone involved.” Cas pulled into their parking lot. Dean waited for him at the front of the car and slipped his fingers between Cas's.

“So, are we going to talk over dinner?”

“About last night?”

Dean nodded and unlocked his door. Cas shrugged and followed him in.

“I know I said we should, but it's a very uncomfortable subject.”

Dean pulled plates from the cabinet . “I'm not trying to learn all your secrets, Cas. I just don't want to screw this up. I don't want to hurt you.”

“I know. I just haven't given it a lot of thought.”

Dean brought Cas his plate and joined him on the couch. “Believe me, I know how weird this is. I didn't even know there was such a thing as bi or pan or aro or any of the others until I was well into my twenties. I just thought I was strange. I've liked girls and guys my whole life and it wasn't until after my dad died that I could even admit it to myself.”

“What do you think now? What do you consider yourself to be?”

“I honestly have no idea. I think all kinds of people are hot, and I used to want to fuck anything that moved, but now? Now I just want to be with someone who loves me for me, you know? Despite all my bullshit. Makes no difference to me what they have between their legs.”

“But you like sex.”

“I fucking love sex, but it doesn't define a relationship for me like it used to.”

“And if you and I never have sex?”

“Then we never have sex.” Dean shrugged and bit into his burger. “You don't like sex.”

Cas shook his head no.

“Okay. If we spend the rest of our lives going no further than we've already gone, that's fine. I like you, Cas. More than I should after only knowing you for a couple weeks. More than I've cared about anyone in a very long time. I want to know everything about you, and I want to tell you everything about me. I want to spend time with you. And if any of that scares you, know that it scares the fucking shit out of me.”

Cas ate in silence. A few minutes ticked by and Dean was beginning to wonder if he'd said too much, admitted too much, when Cas finally spoke.

“We're being straightforward here. Open and honest.”

“Yeah, Cas. Whatever you want to ask, go for it.”

“Don't you have any question for me?”

“Well, sure, but I figured I'd let you go first.”

“Why?”

“Because you probably have more to ask.”

Cas accepted that with a tilt of his head. He set his plate down and curled a leg under him to face Dean.

“I don't know how to ask without being vulgar.”

“Just say it.”

“What happens when you want sex? I mean, I assume you masturbate, but will that always be enough?”

Dean could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and cleared his throat. “I guess I'll deal with that when or if we come to it. I mean, as long as we stay honest with each other, right?”

“I don't think I would be comfortable with you seeking sexual pleasure with other partners.”

Dean covered a cough and took a long drink of his beer. “Then I won't do that. You don't like sex at all, I take it?”

“No. I tried when I was younger. I just have no interest.”

“You don't masturbate?”

“I do, but probably what you would consider very rarely. Only when I'm extremely stressed and having trouble sleeping. Maybe two or three times a year, usually around finals.”

Dean nodded and grabbed their plates to take to the kitchen. He washed them quickly and set them to dry, all while processing what Cas said.

“Okay. I'm going to be rude for a minute,” he said as he handed Cas a fresh beer. Cas nodded his okay and he continued. “You don't like sticking your dick in places?”

“Receiving fellatio makes me uncomfortable. I've tried giving, with mostly negative results for both parties.”

“Wait, what?”

“I gagged and drooled and felt like an idiot. He laughed so hard he lost his erection.”

“He laughed at you for trying to give a blow job? What an asshole.”

“My thoughts exactly. We broke up shortly thereafter. I never had the opportunity to try again.”

“So what about other stuff?”

“I've slept with two women and one man. I didn't enjoy the experience with either woman, though I believe they enjoyed it. I was not on the receiving end, as it were, with the man. And before you ask, yes, I have attempted to pleasure myself that way, but I wasn't very experienced and didn't enjoy it. Things may have changed, of course, but I honestly don't know.”

“Okay. Kissing and cuddling and hand-holding and all that. Is that different territory?”

“It honestly depends on the person. I enjoy being held. I enjoy that kind of physical contact. But only with the right person.”

“I made the cut?” Dean asked with a grin.

“You made the cut,” Cas answered with a nod and ducked his head to hide his smile.


	11. Chapter 11

They'd been together a few months and had established a routine. Dean quit the Roadhouse the day Sam took the bar and announced that he'd signed on with a firm just outside of San Francisco. They split their time between the two apartments, and fell into an easy domesticity neither of them expected. Cas would grade while Dean cooked; Dean would talk about his day while Cas washed the dishes. It occurred to Cas just how closely woven their lives had become when he pulled a load of laundry from the wash and half of it was Dean's.

The only stumble came in early May. Finals week appeared out of nowhere and Cas's stress level skyrocketed. Students who slept through class (if they bothered to come at all) screaming that their C- should really be a B before collapsing into sobs of “if my GPA drops I'll lose my scholarship” or “my parents will cut me off if I fail another class” and Cas had to listen to each one patiently before slapping them in the face with reality.

When it wasn't the students, it was the university administration. His dean giving him long-winded speeches about pass percentages and government grants. His department head reminding him “this isn't Harvard” on a near-daily basis.

And when Raphael decided to call that day, _that_ fucking day, after four hours of students crammed into his tiny office for an impromptu study session where they spent the majority of their time trying to get him to tell them what would be on the final, he snapped.

“Fuck off, Raphael,” he said before slamming the phone down.

“Babe?” Dean called from the living room, and Cas had to take a moment to steady his breathing before he could answer. He collapsed on the couch next to Dean and poured out everything, every little thing he'd held back and pushed down. His frustration and anger and resentment came rushing to the surface and Dean just let him talk, a comforting hand on his thigh, his thumb absently rubbing circles across Cas's skin.

When he finished, he was out of breath.

“Better?”

“A little.”

“Come on.” Dean stood and held out a hand to help him up. He was confused but too tired and tense to question it. He let Dean lead him to the bedroom and shut the door behind them.

“What are you doing? I have finals to grade, paperwork to finish—”

“It can wait. You need to release some tension or the stress is going to kill you.” He tried to pull Cas toward the bed but Cas stopped him.

“What are you doing, Dean?”

He looked up and saw the apprehension in Cas's eyes. He took both of Cas's hands in his and looked him in the eye. “I'm going to take your clothes off of you and give you a massage. I'm going to kiss every square inch of you until you relax. And then I'm going to ask to suck you off. Okay?”

“I don't know,” he started, and Dean cut him off with a squeeze of his hand.

“I will go very slowly up to that point, and will ask before we get there. What about everything else? Can I give you a massage?”

“Okay.” Cas could feel himself start to relax for the first time in weeks.

Dean locked eyes on him and started undressing him. He paused when he pushed Cas's slacks down his hips and dropped them to pool on the floor. “They can stay on if you want,” he said, referring to Cas's boxers, his eyes never leaving Cas's.

“They stay,” he said, and Dean just nodded.

“Socks or no socks,” he asked as Cas stepped toward the bed.

“No socks,” he said with a small laugh and sat down to pull them off.

Dean pulled the massage oil from the nightstand and waited for Cas to settle on top of the quilt before climbing up next to him.

“Albuquerque,” he said quietly, and Cas turned to face him. The kiss was slow and easy and over too soon.

“Relax,” Dean said as he rubbed the oil between his hands, warming it. He pressed his palms into Cas's muscles and Cas sank into the mattress with a sigh. A comfortable silence surrounded them as Dean worked his way down Cas's body.

“Can these come off?” he asked quietly, and Cas pushed his boxers down and let Dean pull them off his legs. He worked his way down, the same firm pressure, the same easy movement, paying special attention to the small of his back, his knees, his calves. When he reached the arches of Cas's feet, he started peppering him with kisses, quick brushes of his lips against Cas's skin, working his way back up Cas's body.

“You ready to turn over?” he asked as he nuzzled against Cas's neck.

“Just massage and kisses.”

“Just massage and kisses,” Dean echoed and moved away so Cas could roll over. He laid back, eyes closed, so relaxed he was almost asleep. Dean started working down his chest, and his eyes fluttered open.

“No nipples.”

“No nipples,” Dean promised as his fingers kneaded into Cas's skin. He was almost to his hips when Cas remembered the discarded boxers.

“Dean,” he said, sitting up slightly.

“I was wondering when you were going to notice,” Dean said with a smile. “Relax. I know The Rules.”

The Rules, having been established gradually since the first awkward conversation, included never touching Cas's dick. Ever. Dean had pressed against him in his sleep, unknowingly aligning Cas's morning wood with the crack of his ass, and Cas had locked himself in the bathroom until Dean was late for work. That incident also created Rule Number One: Use Your Words.

Cas laid back down and tried to relax, but the thought of his dick out on display made him squirm.

“Cas, I'm not going to touch it.”

“But you can see it.”

“I've seen it before. Not exactly new territory here.”

“This is a little more 'laid bare' than normal.”

“Would you be more comfortable if I was naked too?” Dean asked with a soft laugh.

“No. Yes. Maybe?” Cas curled onto his side. Dean pushed against his shoulder, making Cas face him.

“You're not 'laid bare' or whatever. If you're uncomfortable, I'll stop.”

Cas nodded and held his arm up. Dean climbed up next to him, slotting their bodies together. He pulled Cas into his arms and brushed kisses wherever he could reach. Cas was beginning to drift off when he felt Dean take a breath to speak.

“When's the last time you came?”

“Mmm . . . A wet dream a few months ago. Why?”

“Last time you got yourself off?”

“End of last semester.”

“You're really stressed.”

“Yes.”

“You told me you masturbate when you're really stressed.”

“Yes, but I also specified 'having trouble sleeping.' I'm sleeping just fine.”

“Right, and that dance number you did last night was what? Practicing for your ballet recital?”

“That's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?”

“You literally kicked me off the bed. One minute I'm dodging flailing limbs, the next I'm on my ass in the middle of the floor. I have a bruise to prove it.”

“I'm sure you'll reach your point eventually.”

“The point is that I want to do something for you that will ease your stress and help you relax and maybe let you sleep. At this point I would consider it no more a sex act than the massage. If you hate it, I'll stop.” He pulled back to look Cas in the eye. “I'm sorry if this is too much. I just want to take care of you.”

Cas was caught in the middle of a thousand little thoughts that shot through his mind. He and Dean had been moving farther and farther into sexual territory, pushing and discovering his boundaries, and Dean always respected his wishes. Never questioned him. Now he was asking, which was completely new. He never asked to take the lead.

“Will you go slow?”

“Of course. You say the word and I'll stop.”

Cas nodded and laid back, his arm thrown over his eyes.

“Nope,” Dean murmured and pulled his arm away. “You're going to watch so you can see what I'm doing, where I'm going.”

Cas shifted until he was propped against the headboard, knees up, Dean sitting between them.

“Okay?” Dean asked, and Cas didn't trust himself to speak. He nodded and Dean whispered “okay,” and sank down. He kissed every piece of skin that wasn't Cas's dick, though it was half-hard and gave a twitch whenever Dean got close.

“Still okay?”

Cas nodded, and Dean looked up at him.

“Gotta use your words, Cas.”

“I'm okay,” he said, his voice rough.

“Want me to keep going?”

“Yes,” he breathed, his eyes locked on Dean's.

Dean didn't look away when he placed a kiss at the base of his dick. Cas sucked in a sharp breath. He felt a ball of warmth tensing in his gut, but it wasn't the uneasiness he was expecting. Dean placed another kiss above the last and Cas was almost embarrassed at how fast he got hard.

Dean took him gently in hand, more to guide than to grip, and kissed his way up to the head. He licked and teased, tonguing at his slit, and Cas could no longer hold back his moan.

“Still okay?”

“I'm afraid I'm going to come rather quickly.”

“That's okay.” Dean took him in his mouth and swirled his tongue around the crown, his grip at the base tightening. He pulled off and pressed the flat of his tongue against Cas's shaft, licking him slowly from base to tip, before taking him in his mouth again. He bobbed slowly, taking more of Cas in every time. Cas's hips twitched and Dean laid his hand across his stomach to steady him. He sucked around his head and twirled his tongue around his shaft as his hand gripped tighter, pulling him in long easy strokes. Cas barely had time to warn him before the orgasm ripped through him. Dean swallowed him down, stroking him through to the end. When Cas stilled, he sat up and kissed the inside of his knee before moving up the bed to lay next to him.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” Cas whispered, breathless.

“Gonna go to sleep?”

“Yes.”

Dean chuckled softly and pulled the quilt up over him. “I'll be here when you wake up.” He moved to crawl off the bed and Cas caught his hand.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For taking care of me.”

Dean leaned over and kissed him, hard and deep, and smiled when he backed away. “Always. Get some rest.”

Cas drifted off easily for the first time in days.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean waited until Cas's breathing steadied into quiet snores. He stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, hoping the sound wouldn't wake him. He dropped his pants and watched beads of precome drip down his cock while the water warmed. How he managed to not come in his pants with Cas making all those delicious noises he would never know. He lazily pulled long strokes as he stepped beneath the water, his thoughts on Cas's moans and the taste of his come and the way his body arched off the bed when the orgasm hit him.

He came with a grunt through clenched teeth. The water beat down on him as his orgasm faded, and he moved through his shower routine on autopilot. He was overwhelmed – that Cas trusted him enough, felt comfortable enough with him. It was hard for him to wrap his brain around. Everything with Cas was new territory, and most of the time he felt he was way out of his depth.

He knew Cas felt just as overwhelmed as he did, and a hell of a lot more vulnerable.

He moved quietly around the apartment while Cas slept. He started dinner and cleaned the kitchen and watched an episode of _Game of Thrones_. Anna came home and they ate dinner in front of the television. The decision to let Cas sleep was an easy one. Cas hadn't moved a muscle by the time Dean was ready for bed. Dean hurt for him, that he'd let the stress get to him to the point of exhaustion.

When he climbed into bed, he curled around Cas, smiling when Cas nuzzled into him, even in sleep.

He woke up hours later in a tangle of limbs. He shut off his alarm, extracted himself from Cas's grip, and covered him back up. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and headed for the kitchen.

“He still asleep?” Anna asked as Dean set the coffee pot to brew.

“Yep. Slept all night, too. First time in weeks. What are you doing up this early?”

“Haven't been to bed yet,” she shrugged. “Finals really kill him. He puts too much onus on himself, like their grades are somehow his responsibility. I try to tell him that he can't _make_ them learn, but he keeps trying.”

“I think the administration is kicking his ass, too. Wanting him to take on more, but ease his standards so more kids pass. He told me they can't fire him for his pass/fail record because he follows the curriculum set by the department, but they can keep denying him tenure.”

Anna nodded and took the coffee cup Dean offered her. “They would have found a way to fire him years ago if his name wasn't Novak.”

“That's what he said. Which I think is complete bullshit. I think he's really getting to the end of his rope. I mean, he's been there, what? Six years? Seven? And they still haven't given him full time.”

“I hate to say it, but I almost think the reason he stayed is because of me. If I was still in New York, he could have moved on by now.”

“I think there's more to it than that.” Dean sipped his coffee. The thought of Cas not living in that apartment never occurred to him. He poured coffee into Cas's mug and carried to the bedroom.

“Hey babe. You gotta wake up. Last day of finals, remember?”

Cas grunted at him and scrubbed a hand down his face. “. . . time is it?”

“Six. I brought you coffee.”

Cas sat up and gave him a quick kiss. “So good to me. Can't believe I slept that long.”

“You needed it. Now hurry up and get that cute ass out of bed before Anna takes your turn in the shower. I need to get dressed or I'm going to be late.”

“Do I get to see you before you go?”

“If you hurry. I'm going to jump in and brush my teeth, then the bathroom is all yours.” He pressed a kiss to Cas's temple as he stood.

He dressed slowly and waited as long as possible for Cas to get out of the shower, but he couldn't keep Benny waiting. “Cas,” he knocked on the bathroom door and pushed it open when Cas responded. “I gotta go, babe. See you tonight, my place.”

“I have my last final at eight, then a meeting at eleven. I should be home by one or two.”

“I won't be back until five or so. You get to do dinner.”

“Ugh. Fine. See you when you get home.”

Dean grinned as he shut the door. He waved goodbye to Anna as he passed, and took off to meet his ride.

The day was long and hot and the work was tedious and his thoughts strayed to that degree he never got but could finally afford now that he wasn't paying for Sam, and he was deciding between engineering or literature or some kind of art degree when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took a water break to check it and wasn't surprised to see Cas's name on the screen. He called him back and started to say hello when Cas cut him off.

“They fired me,” he said with barely controlled rage.

“What happened?”

“I had a meeting scheduled with the dean to discuss my schedule next semester. When I got there, instead of just him and his secretary, there were HR reps and board members and a dozen people I've never seen in my fucking life and they sat me down like I'm a goddamned child and questioned me about my classes from every semester I've ever taught. Of course I couldn't remember everything from that far back. Who gives a shit what Michael Wheeler made on his fucking midterm seven years ago? I can't even remember what color underwear I pulled on this morning, though I'm pretty sure they're yours. Then they started lecturing me about grading standards and I swear to fucking Christ they said “this isn't Harvard” at least six times. I almost reminded them that I went to Columbia too, just to give them some variety. Apparently my standards are too high for the undergraduate program of a public school and would perhaps be better suited to the graduate level Ivy League schools to which I am accustomed.” Cas paused for breath and let a sigh shake out of him.

“Wait a minute. They fired you because you're too smart? Because you actually expect your students to learn the material?”

“It seems that way, yes. I followed their lesson plans, Dean. I thought everyone in the department was teaching the same thing from the same books, giving the same tests. It was pointed out to me that, no, in fact, most of them only cover the bare minimum and give multiple choice tests instead of essays and give pop quizzes when the students need a boost in grades.”

“Okay. Are you at home?”

“Yes.”

“Go down to my place. Grab a beer, put on _Die Hard_ , and I'll be home in thirty minutes.”

“No, Dean. I don't want a drink and I don't want to watch a movie and I don't want you to leave work early just because of me. I just want to be mad and upset and maybe throw things.”

“Cas.”

“What,” he snapped.

“Cas,” he said softly.

Cas let out a sigh. “What, Dean?” he answered, his voice low.

“Let me take care of you. Go down to my place. Get a beer. Start a movie. Order food. I'll be there soon.”

“Fine.”

“Don't throw things.”

“Dean.”

“Okay, but only soft things.”

“DEAN.”

“Bye, Cas.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean's boss was a grumpy old bastard but he had a good heart, so when Dean said “family emergency” he let him go without hesitation. Even let him borrow a company truck so he didn't have to walk.

Cas was on the couch, feet tucked under him, beer bottle in his hand, staring blankly at the television he hadn't bothered to turn on.

“Hey.” Dean crossed to him, kneeling so he could pull Cas into a hug. He didn't react at first, simply letting Dean hold him. When it registered that he was supposed to hug back, he curled around Dean, burying his face in Dean's neck. When he backed away, his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

“Hey,” Dean said again, smiling up at him.

“Hello.”

“How was your day?”

“Pretty shitty. Yours?”

“Didn't lose any fingers or toes, so I call it a win.”

Cas huffed a humorless laugh and sipped his beer. Dean fell back to sit on the floor in front of him, taking a sip when Cas offered him the bottle.

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not much more to talk about. I have until Monday to clear out my office. I'll get a severance package, but it's just the payout for the rest of my contract. I'll start applying to other schools on Monday, but most positions will be filled by now.” He held a hand to his forehead and took a long pull on his beer.

“Are you going back to New York?” Dean's tone betrayed him. Cas looked down to see the concern in his eyes.

“What? No. I mean, there are many good schools there and it would be silly to not consider them, but no, I'm not going to work for my brothers.”

“Don't you think you should consider it? I mean, keep your options open?”

Cas gave him an incredulous look and uncurled, pushing Dean back. “No, Dean, I shouldn't.” He stood and walked to the kitchen, distancing himself. “How could you even suggest that?”

“Because it's a viable option, Cas. Because you just said most schools won't be hiring. Because you don't want to be out of a job for who knows how long when there is one sitting there waiting for you.”

“Yes, fine. Let's consider the one option that would make me more miserable than I am right now, shall we? We could consider the seven-figure salary and the company car and the company jet and the townhouse in the city. Or maybe the seventy- and eighty-hour work weeks and the stiflingly conservative work environment where I must not only hide who I am, but also pretend to be something I'm not. I wouldn't be able to call you, text you, speak of you. Or use the words 'boy' and 'friend' too close together in a sentence. Stay in the company long enough and I'll have to find a girlfriend, marry her, procreate with her. And that's if I take Raph's offer. Go with Luci or Gabe and I'll at least be able to fuck whomever I want, but I won't have time because I'll be flying to a different city every three or four days. Gabe hasn't spent more than seventy-two consecutive hours in the States in over two years. Sure, they get to see the world, but they live out of suitcases, sleep in hotels, and eat more airline food than any human should consume in a lifetime. So, yes, why don't we consider that option.” Cas started loud and got louder, ending in a shout that surprised both of them.

“I'm sorry, Cas—“

“Damn right, you're sorry.”

“Hey! I'm not the bad guy here. I just want what's best for you. If you say it's not an option, then it's not an option.”

“It's not an option.”

“Okay. Fine.”

“Can we not do this tonight? Can we just eat and watch television and go to bed?” His voice was brittle and Dean's heart broke for him.

“Sure, Cas. I mean, it's not yet four in the afternoon, but if that's what you want . . .”

“Anyone else would be asking for angry sex, wouldn't they. Or at least a pity fuck.”

“Not necessarily. Everyone deals with shit differently, whether they like sex or not.”

“Why are you so fucking patient with me?”

“Because I care about you.” 

“You barely know me.”

“I know enough.”

“I'm an out of work undergrad professor with three business degrees from Ivy League schools, a multi-million dollar trust fund I can't touch, a two-bedroom apartment I share with my sister, and a nine-year-old Honda Civic.”

Dean shrugged. “I'm a high school dropout with a GED, six bucks in my pocket, a two-bedroom apartment I share with my boyfriend, and a borrowed company truck. If anyone's on the losing side of this one, it's you.”

Cas crossed the room and curled into Dean's lap. Dean wrapped him in his arms and dropped a kiss in his hair.

“I'm sorry, Dean.”

“Nothing to apologize for. You've had a shit day.”

“Yes, but I shouldn't take it out on you.”

“Maybe not, but you have to get it out somehow. I'd rather you yell than throw stuff.”

The quiet of the afternoon stretched around them. Dean idly ran his fingers up and down Cas's spine, up into his hair, gently scratching his scalp.

“I'm sorry I'm so broken.” He said it so softly Dean almost missed it.

“No,” he said and pushed Cas up by his shoulders to meet his eyes. “You don't get to say that. You are not broken, Cas. You are not broken.” He repeated it again and again, tears sliding down his cheeks. Cas crumpled into sobs and he pulled him tighter against his chest, holding him close. “You are not broken.”


	13. Chapter 13

Cas sat wrapped up in Dean for a long time, long enough for Dean to shift his weight when his legs fell asleep, but he never let go. He rubbed Cas's back and Cas clung to him, crying off and on until he had no more tears. When he finally leaned up, Dean looked at him like he was the most valuable thing on earth.

“You hungry?” Dean asked quietly, as if he was reluctant to break the stillness that surrounded them.

“Yeah. I missed lunch.”

“Then let's get food.”

Cas called in the order while Dean showered and changed, then Dean found them a movie while Cas changed. They were ten minutes into _The Two Towers_ when the pizza guy showed up, and they spent the next few hours watching Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn run all over Middle Earth. They didn't say anything more about the events of the day until they were cuddled together in bed that night.

“I'm sorry you left work early,” Cas whispered into the dark.

“Not a big deal, Cas. I told you. I want to take care of you.”

“I'll find a job soon.”

“I know you will. Why are you worrying about this right now? Get some sleep.”

“I just don't want you to think you're obligated to support me.”

Dean turned over to look Cas in the eye. “I don't feel like I'm under any obligation to support you. I care about you. I will take care of you to whatever extent I am able. If that means going back to the Roadhouse or moving you and your sister down here, then I'll do it. Now hush and go to sleep or I'll suck you off again and forget to wake you up in the morning.” He gave him a soft smile and kissed him gently, and rolled back over.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Thank you.”

Dean reached back for his hand and threaded their fingers together. “Welcome.”

He woke the next morning to Dean softly calling his name.

“What?” he asked, on the edge of sleep.

“I know I said I wouldn't wake you but you're breaking your own rules.”

He cracked one eye open and slowly realized his hand had a death grip on Dean's hip, his dick pressed into the crack of Dean's ass, and he was inches from coming. “Shit.”

“You wanna finish?”

“No.” _Yes_. “What the fuck's wrong with me?”

“Nothing that I can tell. I have a nice ass.”

Cas smacked it in mock irritation but didn't move away.

“You wanna finish.” It wasn't a question.

“Yes.”

“Want me to help?”

“Like the other day?”

“If that's what you want.”

“Yes,” he said, almost in defeat.

Dean turned over slowly and caught his eye. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” and he slid up the bed. He watched as Dean lavished his inner thighs with kisses, his hands rubbing and kneading the muscles there. His dick throbbed as Dean pushed kisses into the tangle of dark hair and worked his way up. He licked the precome that dripped down and covered the head with his mouth and Cas didn't bother to stifle his moan. One hand pressed his hips into the mattress; the other gripped him tightly and pulled in long strokes. Dean licked and kissed and took more of him in, his tongue curling and sucking until Cas thought he would explode.

“Dean,” he said in warning and Dean drank him down, pulling the come from him as his muscles twitched and the orgasm faded into afterglow.

“Holy fuck, Cas,” Dean breathed as he sat back. “The noises you make are downright criminal.” He pressed a palm to his own erection.

“Do you want me to,” Cas asked, still breathless.

“No, I'll go take care of this in the shower. You go back to sleep.”

Cas caught his arm as he started to slide out of bed. “No. I want to watch.”

“Seriously? It's not going to be a great show, I can assure you.”

Cas just shrugged and Dean conceded by shifting from between Cas's legs to lay across the bed. He slid his hands down the length of his dick, and Cas watched precome spilling out with each stroke. He wondered absently what it tasted like. Dean moved one hand down to massage his balls while the other gripped tighter and moved quicker. He groaned through clenched teeth and his muscles jerked, come spilling out onto his chest and stomach.

“May I?” Cas's curiosity got the better of him.

“You can do whatever you want. You know that.”

He reached out and dragged a finger through the quickly cooling come and brought it to his mouth. It was salty and thick and something distinctly Dean.

“Shit, Cas.” Dean clenched his eyes and laid back.

Cas hummed a response and leaned over, lapping at the pool at Dean's hip. Dean moaned and his hips rose to meet Cas's tongue. Cas leaned back with a quiet laugh, licking his lips clean.

“C'mere,” Dean whispered, his voice low, his hand curling around the back of Cas's neck. He pulled Cas into a deep kiss, pulling the taste of himself off Cas's tongue. Cas made a satisfied noise in the back of his throat and Dean smiled into the kiss. “You're a little shit, you know that?”

Cas gave him a smug smile and kissed him again, a quick press of lips. “You're going to be late for work.”

“No thanks to you.”

Cas sat back and shrugged. “If it would help, you can take the car.”

“Gotta return the company truck. I'll just have to hurry.” He cleaned himself up with a tissue and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Stay here and get some rest, okay? We'll talk tonight.”

Cas let the sound of the shower lull him back to sleep. He woke long enough to say goodbye when Dean pressed a kiss to his temple before drifting off again. He slept most of the morning, only getting up when the light streaming in the window was too bright to ignore. He got up and moved around the apartment as if it was his own, and he let the thought that soon it might be tease at the front of his mind before he shoved it back down. He would wait that one out, wait until Dean was there. He cooked breakfast and considered going to clean out his office, but decided it could wait. The thought of seeing any of his former colleagues made him cringe. He showered and dressed, pulling on faded jeans and one of Dean's t-shirts, before going up to his apartment to grab the last of the ungraded finals.

He spent the day on Dean's couch, trading the stiff denim for flannel pajama pants sometime after lunch. He graded and read and dozed while the radio played softly in the background.

He was pulling laundry from the washing machine when Dean came in.

“Honey, I'm home,” Dean called. He found Cas sorting clothes and stepped behind him, pulling him close, arms wrapped around his waist. He nuzzled into Cas's neck and held him, breathing him in, pressing soft kisses into Cas's skin.

“How was your day?” Cas couldn't keep the smile out of his voice.

“Long,” Dean sighed. “But now I'm home with you.”

Cas turned in his arms and kissed him, feeling Dean relax against him.

“Got any plans for tonight?” Dean asked when he finally pushed away.

Cas turned back to the laundry as Dean moved toward the bedroom. “Not really.”

“What about that thing, the music thing you wanted to see.” He came out of the bedroom in only his boxer-briefs, a towel draped over his arm. He dropped his work clothes in the hamper next to Cas and stepped into the bathroom.

“The Met live from Carnegie?”

“Yeah, the PBS thing.”

“I have it set to record.”

“Kinda defeats the point of 'live' doesn't it?” he asked as he turned on the shower.

“I'm not going to make you watch the symphony, Dean. I'm not that cruel.”

Dean laughed. “And I appreciate that. Why don't you grab a casserole out of the freezer and pop it in the oven. I'll be out in a few minutes.” He gave Cas a wink and a smile before shutting the bathroom door.

Cas finished the laundry and started dinner. He was laying on the couch with a book when Dean came out, his hair still damp. He handed Cas a beer when he joined him on the couch, pulling Cas's feet into his lap. He flipped channels on the television and absently massaged Cas's calf until the oven timer buzzed. Dean went to check the casserole, and Cas realized he'd read the same line five times and still didn't know what it said.

“Hey. Dinner's ready. Would you set the table while I throw together a salad?”

Cas nodded and followed, desperately trying to push away thoughts of the day before.

“You heard from Anna? Have you told her yet?” Dean asked when they were settled at the table.

“Huh? Oh, no. She's staying with Michael's daughter for a few days in the Hamptons. I'll tell her when she gets back. No reason to mess up her vacation.”

“You seem kinda distracted tonight,” Dean said after a few bites.

“Still processing from yesterday.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“About the meeting? Not particularly.”

Dean nodded and took another bite. “Do you want to go clean out your office tomorrow?”

“Might as well get it over with. Will you come with me?”

“Of course.”

After a few minutes, Cas spoke up. “I looked into available teaching positions today.”

“Yeah? Find anything you like?”

“Several, actually. More than I anticipated.”

“That's great,” Dean smiled.

“They're all at the high school level.”

Dean looked up and finish chewing. “Do you want to teach high school? Do they even have high school business classes?”

“I have a degree in history, and am qualified to teach several subjects.”

“But do you want to teach high school kids?” He emphasized the last word.

“I wouldn't apply the same standards to children that I do to undergrads, if that's what you're trying not to ask.”

“Okay, so you apply to the high schools. You know that's going to be quite a pay cut.”

“I know, but I have to consider my options.”

“I want to ask you something,” Dean started, “but I don't know if it's pushing too far too fast.”

“Ask and I'll tell you.”

“I was thinking that it's going to be pretty expensive paying rent on two apartments, even with your severance. What would you think about you and Anna moving in here.” Dean avoided looking at him, and Cas watched the blush creep up his neck.

“I don't think that's a very good idea, Dean,” Cas said slowly.

“Oh. Okay. Well, it was just an idea—“

“What I mean is,” Cas laid his hand over Dean's, cutting him off, “where would Sam stay when he comes to visit? It's not right for Anna to take his room.”

“He can sleep on the couch. Not like he hasn't done it before.”

“That's not fair to him.”

“So, what? You want to keep both apartments?”

“I was thinking maybe we could talk to the manager about moving into a three-bedroom. That way both Anna and Sam have their own space.”

Dean finally looked up at him, his expression wavering between disbelief and astonishment. “Yeah?”

“Seems like the best option, really. Especially with you so determined to take care of me.”

Dean smiled wide and leaned in, a quick press of lips before he leaned back and bumped Cas's forehead with his. “You really want to move in with me?”

“Do you want to move in with me?”

Dean kissed him again.

“I'm glad we got that settled,” Cas laughed when he pulled away.

When they were through, Cas washed the dishes while Dean put away the leftovers. They moved around each other with ease, as if they had been dancing the same dance for years, not months.


	14. Chapter 14

When the kitchen was clean, Dean pulled Cas into the living room and settled them on the couch. He waited for Cas to curl around him before he spoke. “You ready to talk about the sex thing?”

Cas stiffened. Dean waited, rubbing slow lines up and down his side, and Cas finally released his breath with a sigh. “Can we just not talk about it? Ever?”

Dean shook his head no. “Can't risk screwing this up. I need to know what you're thinking, and I can't read your mind.”

“I'm thinking that I have no idea what's going on with my mind or my body. I'm thinking I'm more confused now than I've ever been.”

“Okay,” Dean said slowly. “Cas . . . Are you doing this because I wanted you to, or because you wanted to?”

“You didn't pressure me into anything, Dean. I did it because I wanted to. I did it because it felt good. I don't know. It's different when you touch me.”

“Different how?”

“I don't get a knot in the pit of my stomach. I feel comfortable and cared for. Safe. Not that I ever felt like I was in danger with my previous partners, it's just . . . Different.”

“And you never felt that way before?”

“Not really. I cared for them, obviously, but whatever we did was more for their benefit than mine. It's hard to explain. At the time, I didn't know. I thought everyone was supposed to like it. I thought something was wrong with me, or that I hadn't experienced enough.”

“Like if you practiced, you'd enjoy it?”

“Something like that. I wanted to enjoy it, wanted to make my partner happy. I just couldn't.”

“And with me?”

“I don't have to try to enjoy it. I just do.” He paused and refused to look up. “Please don't get a big ego because of that.”

“Can I get a medium ego? A moderately-sized ego?”

“Dean.”

“Cas. Come on. It's hard not to when your boyfriend says he likes having sex with you.”

Cas could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. He dropped his head to Dean's chest, hiding his face.

“Hey,” Dean said, his tone serious.

“Yes?” Cas answered without lifting his head.

“You know you're not the only one to ever feel like this.”

“I know. Anna thinks I'm demi, though gray-a might fit better. I don't care one way or another. Why can't I just be me, figuring it out as I go?”

“You can, Cas, but you're not a problem to be solved. It's not about figuring out what to label yourself. It's about what makes you happy.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“This is a fairly one-sided relationship. What about what makes you happy?”

Dean pulled him tight against his chest. “You make me happy. I knew what I was getting into months ago. I told you then, if we never move beyond closed-mouth kisses and fully-clothed cuddles, that's fine. So long as I get to wake up next to you and cook for you and watch terrible movies with you, I'm good. Whatever happens beyond that is a bonus as far as I'm concerned.”

“And if I decide I don't like what we're doing now, with the kissing and the nudity?”

“Then we go back to what makes you comfortable. It's not a zero-sum game, babe.”

That night Cas laid in bed and watched the moonlight move across the quilt as the hours passed. Sleep evaded him, so he thought and daydreamed and memorized the pattern of freckles on Dean's shoulders. He loved him and the thought should terrify him, but it didn't. The memory of the meeting was fresh in his mind, the accusations he didn't repeat to Dean, the vile words they used. It didn't matter because in that moment, with his arms wrapped around Dean, he was happy. Happier than he'd ever been.

He dozed, his limbs tangled with Dean's, pressing their bodies together, and woke as the sun started peeking in the window. He rubbed circles down Dean's stomach, fingers brushing light caresses, following the dip of his muscles.

“Morning,” Dean said, his voice thick with sleep. He caught Cas's hand and pressed it against his chest. “You didn't sleep.”

“No.”

Dean rolled in his arms to face him. “Too much on your mind?”

“Yes.”

“Wanna talk?”

“No.”

“Wanna fuck?”

“Yes, please. I want to ride you raw until I'm screaming.”

“You got a dirty mouth.”

“And a vivid imagination.”

Dean smiled and nuzzled closer. “You know, if you ever did want to . . .”

“You'll be the first to know.”

“Mmm.” Dean sighed and ran his hands down Cas's back, stopping just above the curve of his ass, thumbs brushing his hipbones. “Can we just stay like this for a while?”

“We have to get up eventually.”

“But not soon.”

“Don't you have to work today?”

“Nope. Called off. Something about the plumbing.”

“So go back to sleep.”

“Don't want to sleep.”

“No?”

“Mmm . . .”

“What do you want to do?”

“Kinda wanna fuck, now that I mentioned it.”

“Dean.”

“I know it's not an option, but you want me to be honest. I just . . . I want to make you feel good, is all.”

“You know we don't have to have sex for you to make me feel good.”

“I know, but I like it and it's fun and you make the best goddamn noises.”

“You don't, though.”

“Old habit. Shared a room with my kid brother most of my life. Shitty apartments have thin walls.”

“I want to hear what you sound like.”

“Yeah?”

“It's only fair.”

“Maybe one of these days.”

Cas reached between them and brushed his fingertips over the head of Dean's cock, and was rewarded with a small gasp. “Maybe today?” Dean was soft, but he could feel the effect of his touch, could feel the pump of blood under his loose grip.

“What are you doing, Cas?”

“You said you wanted to fuck. Would jacking you off suffice?”

“You wanna give me a handjob?”

“I want to hear what you sound like. This seems to be the best way to achieve that. Is this okay?”

“You don't have to ask to touch me, Cas.”

Cas gripped tighter, massaging and caressing, savoring the sensation of Dean heavy in his hand. Dean moaned, deep and low, his hips pushing into Cas.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, Cas,” he whispered. “Albuquerque.”

Cas pulled a long stroke and kissed Dean slowly. He hummed into the kiss as Cas closed his hand over his head, and Cas backed away, not wanting to miss a sound. He pushed Dean gently onto his back, and paused long enough to spill a few drops of massage oil into his palm.

“You sure you want to do this? You don't have to. You know that, right?”

“I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't want to, Dean.”

Dean leaned back against the pillows and watched Cas through hooded eyes. Cas let his fingers explore, trailing feather-light caresses down Dean's thighs and up his cock. He gripped his sac and rolled his balls gently in his palm. Dean gasped and moaned at each new sensation, each new touch. Cas skimmed his thumb over Dean's cockhead, rubbing against the slit, and Dean sucked a breath between his teeth. Cas gripped him at the base and pulled long slow strokes, rubbing precome between his fingers, down Dean's shaft. Dean bit down hard on his bottom lip, his muscles jerking as he tried to stay still, tried not to thrust into Cas's hand.

Cas held him in steady strokes and turned his attention down past Dean's tensing sac to the clenched ring of muscle. He glanced up, silently asking permission. Dean nodded sharply, his breath coming in pants and gasps. Cas rubbed his finger across and around his entrance, then pressed gently on the space behind his sac. Dean gave the most delicious moan, pushing into Cas's touch. Cas tightened his grip, pressed more firmly, and smiled as Dean bucked into his hands.

“Fuck, Cas. I'm close,” he breathed, his hips jerking to push into Cas's fist. Cas increased his pace and pressed harder against Dean's hole, letting his fingertip push past his rim.

Dean came with a cry, a broken shout of Cas's name. Cas didn't remove his hand, but stroked him through his orgasm, watching the come shoot up Dean's stomach and spill down his hand. He licked the come from his fingers, aware of Dean's eyes on him.

“Wow,” Dean panted, loosening his death grip on the bed sheets.

“That was okay?”

“Very much so.” Dean smiled and pulled Cas up into his arms. The kiss was slow and gentle, almost lazy.

“Come on,” Dean finally whispered. “Let's get cleaned up and get the office thing over with. We can come back to bed when we're done, okay?”

Cas hummed an agreement and pressed one more kiss into Dean's lips before climbing up and heading for the shower.


	15. Chapter 15

A half-hour later, they were in the car, driving in silence. Cas had a far away look in his eyes and almost ran a red light, his attention clearly elsewhere.

“Hey.” Dean's voice cut through Cas's thoughts. “You're awfully quiet. You okay?”

“Yes. Just . . . apprehensive. Ready for this to be over.”

“Well, that's why you've got me. No more than you said was in there, we should have this done in a few hours.”

“Yes,” Cas said absently. His brow creased slightly and his hands moved across the steering wheel on autopilot.

“What's on your mind, babe?” Dean kept his voice low, tried to keep his tone light, but the worry on Cas's face bothered him.

“Just thinking about what they said in the meeting. My office is on the second floor, but I have to stop by the department office first and drop off the last of the finals.”

“What'd they say in the meeting?” Dean asked, not letting Cas deflect.

Cas pulled into a parking space and turned off the engine. Dean put a hand on his arm to stop him pulling the keys from the ignition.

“What did they say in the meeting, Cas?” Dean couldn't keep the edge from his voice.

“Can we not do this now? Can we get this done and go home? Please?” He looked up at Dean with the last word, his eyes pleading more than his tone.

“Yeah, Cas. Let's get this done,” Dean said slowly. He wasn't going to let matter drop, but he wasn't willing to make it harder on Cas either. He grabbed the empty boxes from the trunk and followed Cas into the building.

“This isn't creepy at all,” Dean said, his voice echoing down the empty corridor. Cas huffed a laugh, but the smile quickly faded. Dean stood by as Cas stepped into the department office to hand over the finals and check his messages one last time. He watched as Cas moved through the space like he belonged there, his movement sure and unhurried, his posture straight. He followed Cas to the stairwell, noting that the only other places Cas moved like that were their apartments. Everywhere else he moved as if he was afraid of taking up too much space, afraid he would be noticed.

Dean wasn't sure what he expected when Cas described his office, but barren never came to mind. The room was tiny, barely big enough for the desk and four-drawer filing cabinet that were somehow crammed in there.

“You weren't lying when you said there wasn't much here.”

“No. Just files, really. Though, I'm not sure what I really need to keep.”

“Then we'll decide as we go.” Dean pulled open the top drawer and grabbed a handful of files. Cas sat down at the desk with a sigh and started going through the stack Dean handed him.

Two hours later the filing cabinet was empty and a large trash can was overflowing. The files he kept half-filled a single box. He pulled what little he had stored in the desk and dropped it in as well. Dean grabbed the boxes and stepped into the hallway, leaving Cas to take one last glance around before locking the door for the last time. “Cas Novak, Professor, Business” was carved into a small plaque that was fixed to the door at eye level. He slid it from the holder and dropped it in the box with the other pieces that represented the last seven years of his career. Dean tried to take his hand as they stepped into the stairwell, but Cas gave him a small smile.

“Here,” he said, handing over the car keys. “Meet me at the car. I have to turn my keys in to security. Won't take a minute.”

Dean was leaning against the side of the car when Cas appeared. He watched his boyfriend cross the parking lot, his shoulders hunched, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his head down. His easy posture from earlier gone. He didn't look up until he was toe to toe with Dean, and then only long enough to press his lips to Dean's. Dean leaned into the touch, wishing he could take some of the hurt from Cas.

“Let's go home,” he said when Cas pulled away. Cas just nodded and slid into the passenger seat. They drove in silence – Cas staring out the window, Dean watching him out of the corner of his eye.

“I get that you don't want to talk about it,” Dean started, “but I know something is bothering you and it's not that trash can full of paper we left back there.”

Cas didn't look away from the window. “I don't want to have this conversation right now.”

“Fair enough,” Dean said, and drove on. When they got home, he pulled the box from the back seat and followed Cas into the apartment building.

“Have you heard from your sister?” Dean asked as he set the box on Cas's dining table.

“I received a text from her earlier saying they arrived at the beach house and that the weather was so beautiful, they decided to stay the week.”

“Must be nice to be able to just _decide_ to stay an extra few days in the Hamptons.”

“Yes, well, Anna has access to her trust fund.”

“Wait, what? How is that fair? Or, you know, legal?”

“Michael is the executor of my trust. Luci is the executor of hers.”

“Wow. I don't know what to say to that.”

Cas gave him a small smile. “There's nothing you can say, really. So, do you want to order pizza or dig through the leftovers? Or maybe go out and catch a movie?”

He fidgeted as he spoke. Dean crowded into his space and pulled him into his arms, stopping the movement.

“Whatever you want to do. If you want to go out, we can. If you want to spend the rest of the day on the couch, we can. Your choice.” Dean felt Cas relax against him, his arms wrapping around Dean's waist, his head nuzzled into Dean's neck. Dean held him close and rubbed circles down his back. He didn't know what other comfort he could give.

“They called me a fag.”

“Cas?”

He leaned back. “At the meeting. You asked what they said. They accused me of being inappropriate with a student, of making sexual advances. The student is male, but that's all I'm allowed to know. I don't know if he saw me with you or if another professor made a comment, someone we saw at Tipperary maybe. They said they had to read the student complaint for the record. So I had to sit there with a dozen of my peers and listen to my boss call me a fag. 'I don't feel comfortable having a fag for a teacher.'”

“Oh, Cas.” Dean pulled him closer, held him tighter. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Tried to convince myself I was okay. That it was just a word. Tried to not let some asshole kid upset me.” He pulled back quickly and looked into Dean's eyes. “I didn't do it. Make advances or whatever. I wouldn't.”

“I know you didn't, babe. That never crossed my mind.”

Cas buried his head in Dean's chest. “I don't know why someone would say that.”

“I'm so sorry, Cas.”

“Not your fault.”

“Not yours either. But they can't just fire you because of one angry kid. Isn't there supposed to be a hearing or something?”

“There was. Last month. They said I was represented, so my presence wasn't required. They said that while I was acquitted of the charges, my continued presence would be a negative reflection on the university.”

“They actually said that.”

“Word for word.”

“That's bullshit.”

“I agree, but this is Kansas. They can fire me for being gay.”

“But you're not gay.”

“No, but I'm still fired. It's all semantics to them.”

Dean had no words to offer, no comfort to give other than what he'd already given, so he pulled Cas tight to his chest and dropped kisses in his hair. He whispered “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry” over and over again, and when he kissed him, it was tender and slow.

“Okay,” Dean took a deep breath, “here's what we're going to do. You are going to take a long, hot shower and change into comfy pajamas. I'm going to order Chinese. Then we are going to curl up on the couch and cuddle and watch something with Harrison Ford and explosions until I lose the urge to hit things. Sound like a plan?”

“Please don't hit things.”

“I won't as long as you come eat eggrolls and watch a movie with me.”

“Okay. My place or yours?” Cas asked.

“That's up to you.”

Cas leaned into him, breathing him in. “Yours. And we go talk to the apartment manager on Monday.”

“We can do that. Go on, get in the shower. I'll order food.”

“Join me?”

“Not this time. You go relax. I'll give you a massage later if you're good,” he said with a sly smile.

“You're not going to hit things?”

Dean huffed a laugh. “No, I'm going to go call my brother. Now go on.” He made sure the shower was running before leaving for his own apartment.

He stood in the kitchen, resting his hip against the counter, and ordered more food than he or Cas could possibly eat in one sitting. He couldn't do much to comfort him, but he could feed him, and he had to hope that was enough. When he hung up, he grabbed a beer and moved to the couch. He fired off a text to Sam, who called back immediately.

“Shouldn't you be busy saving the world?”

“One of the partners won a major case today and decided to take the whole firm out to celebrate. I'm waiting for Jess to get off work so we can join them.”

“And how's that going?”

“Jess or the firm?”

“Both.”

“Well, the firm is cool. I can't do much yet, but everyone is nice. I guess because it's pretty small, so there's not a whole lot of inter-office competition or whatever. And Jess – really well, I think. Her parents are coming in to have dinner with us in a few days.”

“Already meeting the parents? Sam. I'm so proud.” Dean faked a sniffle.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.” He tried to sound irritated, but Dean could hear the smile in his voice.

“Whatever. I'm proud of you.”

“Thanks. How are you and Cas?”

Dean cleared his throat. “Good. We're good. Sorry we can't make it out to graduation.”

Dean could practically hear Sam roll his eyes. “I told you, it's not a big deal. I know you have to work, and Cas probably has to go to his own school's ceremony, doesn't he?”

“I honestly have no idea. He hasn't mentioned it.”

“Oh. Well, anyway, there's no reason to spend all that money to fly out just to watch me stand up and sit back down. I'm sure Jess will get plenty of pictures of the ridiculous cap and gown get-up.”

“Yeah, she better.” There was a knock at his door. “Food's here, Sammy. Go have a good time and I'll talk to you soon.”

Sam laughed. “Sure thing, Dean. Say hi to Cas for me.”

Dean hung up without a goodbye and dropped his phone onto the couch. He pulled the door open just as Cas was letting himself in.

“I forgot my wallet upstairs,” he said as he pulled his key from the doorknob.

“No worries, babe. I got it tonight.” He paid the delivery guy and took the food straight to the coffee table. “Beer or water?”

“Beer. How is Sam?”

Dean grabbed plates and utensils and a couple beers. “Good. Said he's meeting Jess's parents in a few days.”

“Wow. I didn't know they were that serious.”

“I didn't either, to be honest.”

“They grow up so fast.”

“I know. One day you're doctoring boo-boos with Batman band-aids, the next they're graduating law school.”

“Does that mean she's coming out here to meet you? You're the closest thing Sam has to a parent.”

“I don't know. Sam's never had a serious girlfriend before. I mean, girlfriends, yeah, but not 'meet the parents' girlfriends.”

Dean started the movie and they dug into the food. Ten minutes in, he bumped Cas's hand. “I've been thinking.”

“About?”

“Asking Sam to look into what the school did to you. See if it's discrimination or something.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I don't know if that's a fight I want to start.”

“I know. I just thought it couldn't hurt to know what the law is, what your rights are. At least have all the information. What they did to you was wrong, Cas.”

Cas didn't look at him. He absently picked at his food, his brow furrowed.

“I also thought maybe he could look into your trust fund situation, see if there's any way you can get it back.”

Cas was very quiet, staring at the screen without seeing the movie. After a few minutes he let out a sigh and set his carton on the coffee table.

“If you're so concerned about money, why did you ask to take me and Anna in?”

“What? I'm not worried about money. I mean, I am, but not like that. I'm just trying to help you, to—“

“Take care of me, I know, but I didn't ask for your help.”

“No, you didn't. I offered. Because I care about you, and about Anna. I certainly didn't intend to hurt you.”

“You never do. Thanks for dinner.” Cas stood and brushed a kiss on Dean's forehead. He was out the door before Dean could react.


	16. Chapter 16

Cas climbed into bed, doing what he could to keep his mind blank, to not think about the last hour, the last few days. He wasn't mad at Dean. He was angry and bitter and hurt and embarrassed and so many emotions he couldn't name. He knew Dean didn't care about his money, but it was the easiest accusation, so he said it. He would apologize later.

He dozed off and on, reaching for Dean in the half-sleep before waking, and hated himself for it. How had he grown so dependent, so needy for the other man's touch, his warmth. His phone went off once around midnight, a message from Dean he couldn't bring himself to read.

He stayed in bed the next day. He thought over every little thing that had happened in the last overwhelming week. He came to a few decisions, but mostly he tried to figure out what the hell he was feeling.

He got a message from Dean at noon, saying the same thing he had the night before: “I'm sorry.” Cas slid his phone under his pillow and threw his arm across his eyes to block out the sunlight. He slept the rest of the day, rising once to relieve himself and make a sandwich. He ate over the kitchen sink, then shuffled back to his bed.

Sometime in the night he woke to the sound of the deadbolt clicking, locking his front door, but he decided it was a dream and drifted back into an uneasy sleep. When he reached across the bed a few minutes later, he was startled awake by the press of soft, warm skin against his.

He sat up quickly. “Dean?”

“Couldn't sleep without you.” Dean snuggled closer, his arm thrown around Cas's waist, pulling him in. “Just sleep. We'll talk tomorrow.”

He cracked an eye open when Cas hesitated and held the covers up for Cas to sink back into. He let Dean curl around him, folded him into his arms, and let out a shuttering breath. He felt Dean breathe him in, his face pressed into the curve of Cas's neck, his lips against Cas's skin, and couldn't help the shiver that raced down his spine.

“Love you,” Cas whispered.

Dean murmured in his sleep, and the tight knot that had formed in Cas's chest started to release.

He woke several hours later to Dean pressing soft kisses to his face, his neck, anywhere he could reach.

“Good morning,” Cas whispered, his voice rough from sleep. He tightened his arms around Dean's waist, pulling him closer.

“Hi.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Me, too.”

“I was hurt and angry and I took it out on you. I know you were just trying to help.”

“Apology accepted.”

“I've been thinking.”

Dean sat up on his elbow, his hand splayed across Cas's torso, and peered down at him in the pale dawn light. Cas tucked one hand behind his head and played with Dean's fingers with the other.

“About?” Dean asked.

“I would like Sam to do the research you asked about, both the discrimination laws and the trust laws. You were right: I can't make an informed decision until I have all of the information. And of course, I don't expect him to do this pro bono. I will pay him whatever fee he deems reasonable.”

“That's not necessary. As much as I've paid over the years, he can do a little research for free.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

“Then I thank you. I've also been thinking about our living situation.”

Dean stiffened, his jaw clenched.

“I think I should speak with Anna before we make any decisions, and I think you should speak with Sam.”

“Sam won't care.”

“Maybe not, but Anna might, and whatever my feelings, I have to consider hers first.”

“You still want to move in with me?” Dean's voice was low and rough, and the hurt stabbed through Cas.

“Do you still want to move in with me?”

“Of course, Cas. Yes. I thought . . . When you left, I thought you were breaking up with me.”

“And you came into my bed because?”

Dean shrugged. “I wanted one more night.”

“I'm not leaving you.”

“Sure felt like it.”

“I was upset and needed time to figure out what was going on in my head, what was happening with my emotions.”

“You could have said that.”

“You're right. I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, well, don't do it again.” He leaned over, silently asking permission.

“I won't, I promise.” He pulled Dean closer and sank into the kiss, opening his lips to let Dean's tongue explore and relearn the shape of his mouth. Dean pressed against him and Cas felt the heat radiating from his body, the hardening bulge between his legs. Cas moaned and slotted his knee between Dean's thighs. He turned slightly to align his erection with Dean's and felt desire pool at his center.

“Oh, I missed you, Cas,” Dean whispered against his skin as he mouthed down the line of his jaw. He wrapped his arms around Cas's waist, pulling him closer. “Could lay like this forever, wrapped up in you.”

“Mmm. At least until one of us gets hungry. Or has to pee.”

Dean chuckled softly. “Is that your way of telling me you need to go?”

“Yep.” Cas kissed his shoulder and slid off the bed. Dean rolled over when he heard the shower start, and let the sound lull him back to sleep.

He woke to kisses on his shoulders and fingers brushing over his hole. “You better be Cas or you're gonna lose an arm,” he said, his voice rough.

“And if it is me?”

“Well, then you can keep doing whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” He pressed a fingertip into the ring of muscle.

“Long as you use lube, yeah.”

“You want my fingers in your ass?”

“Is that your attempt at dirty talk?”

“Not my best work, I admit.”

Dean laughed and rolled to face him. “You know you don't have to ask to touch me.” He pulled Cas into a deep kiss and Cas let his hands wander.

He explored every inch of Dean, pressing kisses into his skin and caresses across his freckles. Dean yielded to him, opened up to him, moved as Cas wanted him. Dean's eyes were hooded as he watched, so relaxed he was almost asleep. Cas looked up at him from where he was kissing his inner thighs.

“Have you ever done that before?”

“Been on the receiving end of anal sex?”

“Yes.” Cas hid his blush by pressing kisses into the inside of Dean's knee.

“Yeah.”

“What was it like?”

“Depends on who you have it with.”

Dean moved up the bed and settled against the pillows. Cas crawled up next to him, propped on one elbow, his arm thrown low across Dean's belly, his fingers trailing through the dusty blond hair below Dean's belly button.

“Meaning?”

“If it's with someone who cares about you, it's like any other kind of sex. If they're more in it for themselves, it's not that great.”

“Did someone hurt you?”

Dean looked up at him. “No, babe. Nothing like that. Just . . . Some people are selfish pricks, and when a selfish prick fucks you, you're acutely aware that there's a dick up your ass. Despite what they say, not all sex is good sex.”

“Mmm.”

“Why? What are you thinking?”

“I'm curious if that's what they think about me. If they remember me as a selfish prick.”

“I highly doubt that. I mean, even if you weren't into it, you tried to make sure they were, right?”

“Yes, but I was very inexperienced. Still am, I suppose.”

“I think you're doing okay.” Dean smiled and rubbed a hand down his side.

Cas leaned in with a smile. “Yeah?”

“Definitely.” Dean rose to meet him, mouth open and inviting. They swapped kisses until they were breathless, moaning deep in their chests, erections trapped between them.

“Dean . . . I want . . .”

“What, babe?”

Cas pulled back to look in his eyes. “I want you to . . . to me . . .”

“Yeah?”

Cas nodded, and Dean curled his fingers into Cas's hair, pulling him into a kiss with one hand while the other moved down his body.

He'd barely brushed the top of his cleft when the opening drum rift of “When The Levee Breaks” sounded, muffled, from somewhere in the bed.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Dean sat up, pulling the covers with him as he searched for his phone.

“Really? You're answering the phone _now_?”

“Sam always texts before he calls. Something's wrong.” He pulled the phone from under the pillows and hit the answer button. “Sammy?” 

Cas pressed his forehead into Dean's shoulder and tried to catch his breath. He couldn't hear what was being said on the other end of the line, but ran a calming hand up Dean's back as his grunts of “yeah” and “okay” became more agitated.

“I'm on the next plane out.” He hung up and leaned into Cas. “There's been an accident. Drunk driver. Sam's in a coma.”

“Okay. Let's go get you packed.” Cas started to get up, and Dean caught his wrist.

“Come with me.” He stared into Cas's eyes, pleading. “I don't want to do this alone.”

“Of course. Let me grab a few things. Go get started and I'll be there in a minute.”

Dean pulled on his clothes and took off for his apartment. Cas found his phone as soon as he was out the door.

Raphael picked up on the third ring. “Castiel.”

“Raphael. I need a favor. I need the plane.”

“The plane is for company business.”

“My friend's brother is hurt, maybe dying. He needs to get to him. Please.”

There was a long pause, then Raphael sighed. “Where is your friend going?”

“San Francisco. Please, Raphael. He's the only family Dean has.”

Another pause and Cas could hear Raphael speaking to someone in hushed tones.

“Castiel, you are in luck. It seems that Tessa has urgent business in California by way of Kansas City. She will arrive in approximately three hours.”

“Thank you, Raphael.”

“Nothing is more important than family, Castiel. Remember that.”

Cas hung up the phone and silently prayed that the favor wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass. He made his bed, packed a few things in a small suitcase, and ran down to Dean's.

He found Dean in the middle of his bedroom floor staring into the middle distance, clothes scattered around him.

“Hey,” Cas said as he sat down, wrapping his arms around Dean.

“I can't lose him, Cas. I just can't. He's all I've got, man.”

“I know. Come on. I have our flight scheduled. We need to hurry if we're going to make it in time. Okay? Help me pack?”

Dean nodded stiffly and let Cas help him up. Cas pulled clothes from hangers and out of the dresser and handed them to Dean, who mechanically folded and placed them into the suitcase. He followed Cas down to the car and dropped into the passenger seat. He didn't come back to himself until they were almost to the airport.

“How did you get reservations so fast? And how much is this costing us?”

“I called my brother. He's sending the plane.”

“Oh.” A beat, and then, “I need to call my boss.”

Cas pulled into the airport and circled for the right terminal. He parked and left Dean to finish his phone call in private while he unloaded the car.

“That went better than expected,” Dean said when he climbed out. He grabbed his bag and Cas's hand. “Benny's going to talk to the foreman, make sure I have a spot on the crew when I get back.”

“So now we're both unemployed.”

“Looks that way.”

Cas led the way into the terminal, and didn't let go of Dean's hand until they got to security. They stayed close during their short wait, Dean seeking the comfort in Cas's touch and Cas giving it to him freely. They tried to keep their distance when they got on the plane, but if Tessa noticed the occasional brush of fingers or lingering looks, she didn't say anything. They took a taxi straight to the hospital, not bothering with a hotel first.

The hospital was small but modern, all clean lines and frosted glass. Cas marveled at how a hospital bed could make anyone look small, even all six feet four inches of Sam Winchester. His head and half of his face were covered in thick white bandages. His entire right leg and half of his right arm were encased in plaster. There were tubes and wires running everywhere, all attached to various pieces of equipment. Dean wrapped his hand around Sam's left foot, seemingly the only piece of skin that wasn't covered or being monitored.

The doctor met with them shortly after they arrived. Cas let Dean lean into him, giving him what support he could without words.

“Your brother is a very lucky man, Mr. Winchester,” the doctor started. “He has some internal bruising that we're keeping an eye on, especially around his heart and lungs. We're concerned about his brain, which initially showed some swelling, but could just be a severe concussion. We'll do an MRI to be sure once he's more stable. We're keeping him sedated until we know one way or the other. He has five fractures: two to his right femur, one each to his right ulna and radius, one to the right clavicle, as well as a dislocated left hip, probably from the seat belt, and several bruised ribs. You can get more specific information about the accident from the sheriff, but from what I can tell from your brother's injuries, the car hit his door almost exactly, meaning he took the brunt of the impact. All of the breaks look to be from the initial impact, while the dislocation is probably from the recoil. The swelling in his brain is likely caused by cracking his head against the window.”

“But,” Dean cut in, his voice cracking, “will he be okay? A bunch of broken bones don't usually land you in ICU.”

“The first responders incorrectly noted bleeding from the ears. When he got to the ER, it was discovered that the bleeding was from the wound on the side of his head. He was already booked for the ICU when they shaved his head and found the source. After that, it's hospital policy to keep a patient for twenty-four-hour observation before another evaluation. He should be moved to a private room tomorrow or the next day.”

“You shaved his head? He's going to be so pissed,” Dean huffed a laugh and let the relief wash through him.

“Thank you, Doctor. Is there any way you could get us in touch with the sheriff?” Cas asked.

“Let me get you her card,” he said, and turned from the room.

As soon as he left, Dean pulled Cas to him and held him tight. “He's gonna be okay. Jesus fucking Christ, he's gonna be okay.”

After a few minutes, Cas pulled back and kissed Dean. “You stay with Sam. I'll go see about renting a car and finding a hotel. Okay?”

“Could you talk to the sheriff? Get the whole story?”

“Of course.” Cas smiled and kissed the corner of his mouth, then left the brothers alone.


	17. Chapter 17

Sam stayed in the ICU for two days before being moved to a private room. Dean stayed by his side, sleeping sitting upright in the tiny room. Cas stayed in a hotel down the street when he wasn't sitting with Dean or bringing him food or a change of clothes.

Sam came off sedation six days after the accident. He woke quickly and remembered everything. Cas couldn't decide if that was a blessing or a curse.

After the initial bustle of doctors and nurses and pokes and prods, Cas remembered that Sam probably had no idea who he was and Dean was too distracted to introduce him. He stepped cautiously into Sam's field of vision, just to the right of the foot of the bed, and took a deep breath to speak when Sam beat him to it.

“You must be Cas.” He smiled and lifted his left hand for Cas to shake.

“Hello, Sam.” He took his hand with a half-smile.

“Sorry to meet you like this. I'm usually better dressed.”

Cas huffed a quiet laugh. “Dean has told me a lot about you,” he deflected, and didn't miss the shine of pride in Dean's eyes.

“Only the good stuff, I hope.”

“Oh no. I told him about the time you refused to shower for two weeks, and the first time I caught you watching porn, and—“

“Wow. Thanks, Dean,” Sam cut him off and Dean just laughed.

“We spoke to one of the partners in your firm. They are all concerned, and want you to focus on your recovery,” Cas tried to turn the conversation back to more pressing matters.

“They didn't happen to say if I still have a job, did they?” Sam asked with a tight laugh.

“Your position is secure. And they received the results of the bar exam. I can bring you the letter if you want,” Cas said.

“Letter? I passed?”

“Yeah, Sammy. You did.” Dean didn't bother to keep the emotion out of his voice.

Sam leaned back with a sigh, a smile playing on his lips.

“The woman I spoke with also assured me that the firm is handling your medical expenses, and will represent you in court if necessary.”

“What do you mean?”

“The driver who hit you was intoxicated, well over the legal limit. He wasn't injured in the crash and was apprehended at the scene.”

“What are the charges?”

Cas pulled a piece of paper from a folder on the table next to the bed. “Intoxication assault with a vehicle, SBI?”

“Serious bodily injury. I guess the brain swelling thing. Did she say when they're coming for my statement?”

“I called while the doctors were in earlier. She said she would speak with the sheriff and call before they came by. Should be early tomorrow,” Dean offered.

Sam was quiet, lost in his thoughts. “I didn't know he lived. I guess I just assumed . . . He hit us so hard. What about Paul, the guy who was driving?”

“A mild concussion, cuts and bruises. He's been by a few times to check on you,” Dean said.

“Jessica?” Sam asked, his voice small.

“She came by when you were in the ICU, right before they moved you.” Dean reached out and laid a hand on Sam's good arm.

“Did she say anything?”

“She was a little freaked out. Said she didn't do hospitals. Asked us to call when you woke up.” Dean trailed off, looking to Cas.

“Which I did earlier while Dean called the firm. I hope that was okay,” Cas finished.

“Yeah, that's fine,” Sam said absently. “Do you guys know what happened to my phone?”

Cas pulled a plastic bag from a drawer and handed it over. “This is all of your effects. At least, everything they could find.”

Sam reached in and pulled out a mostly intact smartphone. The screen was cracked and the battery was dead.

“I'll go to your apartment and get your charger, and anything else you need, if you want.”

“Thanks, Cas. Yeah, that would be great.” He started making a list and Cas glanced at Dean just as he tried to hide a yawn.

A small tap at the door brought them out of the strained silence. Cas opened it to a tall young woman who stood fidgeting on the other side.

“Um, hi. Dean, right?” She raised her hand to Cas. He shook his head and opened the door wider, inviting her in.

“That's Cas, my brother's boyfriend. This is my brother, Dean. Guys, this is Jessica.”

“Hello.” She looked around at each of them, her blonde ponytail shivering slightly.

The awkward silence stretched around them until Cas cleared his throat. “Dean, Why don't we go pick up the things on Sam's list.”

Dean took the hint quickly and stood, patting Sam on his foot. “Be back in a while, Sammy. My phone's on the table. Text Cas if you need anything. Nice to meet you, Jessica.”

“Thanks guys,” Sam said as Cas closed the door behind them.

“Break-up or make-up?” Dean asked as they made their way to the car.

“Hard to say. He likes her, but I think maybe more than she likes him. He needs someone made of sterner stuff, as my mother would say.”

“Yeah. I mean, she seems like a nice girl, but . . .” He reached for Cas's hand, pulling him closer. “I couldn't imagine not being there if you were laying in a hospital bed, you know? How do you just sit at home while your boyfriend is in a coma?”

“Whatever happens, it's their decision. We can't judge them for it.”

“I know, man, but . . . I guess I'm just trying to look out for my brother. Protect him.”

“He's a grown man, Dean.”

“Doesn't mean I'm not still his big brother.”

Cas squeezed his hand and unlocked the car. “Sam's apartment first,” he said as he slid behind the steering wheel, “then the hotel.”

“What's at the hotel?” Dean's mind was occupied elsewhere.

“A shower, for one. A change of clothes. A bed.”

“You saying I smell?” Dean asked with a cheeky grin.

“I'm saying you've been in the same shirt for two days and the same boxers for three. Take that as you will.”

“Why don't you drop me off. I can shower and change while you run by Sammy's, then you can come pick me up. We'll be back sooner that way.”

“Because technically I just met your brother this morning. Because I've never been in his apartment. Because I would feel uncomfortable if I went alone.”

“Fine. Then we'll go to Sam's, you'll drop me at the hotel, you can run to the store for anything we missed, and then come back and pick me up.”

Cas made a noncommittal noise that seemed to satisfy Dean. He easily found the apartment and they quickly gathered the few items Sam asked for. It was a short drive from there to the hotel. Dean leaned across the front seat for a kiss when Cas pulled to a stop, and Cas hesitated before brushing his lips across Dean's cheek.

“That bad, huh? Fine, I'll go shower.” Dean smiled and Cas silently thanked him for not looking hurt. Dean knew Cas's hesitation had little to do with his hygiene, but he refused to call him on it.

“See you in a few,” Dean said as he climbed out of the car. Cas gave him a little wave and took off for the nearest big box chain.

He could hear the shower still running when he returned, canvas bags in tow. He knocked on the bathroom door and was greeted with a wet, naked, slightly soapy Dean.

“That was quick. Wanna join me?”

Cas dropped the bags against the wall and started stripping, aware of the fatigue that seemed to settle into his bones. He stepped into the shower behind Dean and wrapped his arms around Dean's middle. Dean grabbed a clean washcloth and poured body wash onto it, lathering it as he turned in Cas's arms. He moved Cas under the spray and washed him down, moving the cloth with tenderness and care.

“I'm supposed to be taking care of you,” Cas said as Dean rubbed down one leg, then the other.

“I'm already done. Besides, letting me take care of you _is_ taking care of me. Watching my brother lay in that bed, knowing there was nothing I could do to help him . . . Just let me do this.” He caught Cas's eyes as he spoke.

“Okay,” Cas nodded, holding his gaze. “I'm sorry about earlier. In the car.”

“Don't apologize, Cas. I know.” He gave a small smile and handed Cas the cloth. “Here. Wash your ass and I'll wash your hair.”

Cas did as he was told, let Dean maneuver him under the spray until he was scrubbed clean. He dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. He left Dean at the sink brushing his teeth while he went to rearrange the contents of the bags. Dean came out completely naked and fell face first onto the bed.

“You buy me anything pretty?” he asked, his voice muffled by the pillows.

“I considered a pair of pink satin panties but they didn't have your size,” Cas deadpanned, not looking up from his task. Dean chuckled and shifted up the bed to lean against the headboard.

“What did you get, then?”

“Just the things that we needed, things Sam asked for. Fruit. I'm guessing the hospital food isn't to his taste. A new paperback. Socks that will work with his cast.” Satisfied with the arrangement, he turned to dig in his suitcase for clothes.

“Hey Cas?”

“Yes?”

“Sam introduced you to Jess as my boyfriend.”

“I am your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I know, but you didn't flinch. I mean, usually you react in some way but today you just went with it.”

“Is that bad?”

“No. It was nice, hearing my brother say that.”

“Your brother has been aware of your preferences for a while.” Cas pulled a pair of boxer-briefs from the bag and dropped his towel, turning to Dean.

“Yeah, but I've never had a boyfriend. Felt nice to hear someone else say it. Made it normal or more real somehow. I don't know what I'm trying to say.”

“Accepted.”

“Yeah. Come here.” He held his arms out and Cas crawled into bed, letting Dean pull him close. He dropped a kiss in Cas's damp hair. 

“Why don't you get some rest, let me take these things to Sam.”

Dean yawned as if on cue. “I'm thinking that's not a terrible idea. Do you mind going?”

“Of course not. Sleep. I'll be back shortly.” He brushed his lips against Dean's and Dean brought up his hand, cupping Cas's jaw and pulling him in. Cas opened to him easily. The kiss was unhurried and held everything they wanted to say but couldn't find the words for.

“I'll be right back,” Cas said when they finally broke apart. He dressed quickly and was almost certain Dean was asleep by the time he left.

The sun was starting to sink when Cas pulled into the hospital parking lot. Sam's door was slightly ajar, and he knocked hesitantly before pushing it open.

“Come on in, Cas.” Sam's eyes were red and his voice hollow, but he offered a small smile as Cas entered the room.

“I brought your things,” he said, laying the bags on the bed and carefully avoiding the elephant in the room. “Dean stayed at the hotel to sleep.”

Sam nodded, and Cas pulled the phone charger out, busying himself with Sam's phone while Sam emptied the bags.

“Would you mind?” He held up a new pair of socks. “I can't really bend.”

“Sure.” Cas pulled off the label. “I hope I bought the right size,” he said with a smile.

Sam huffed a laugh. “Thanks for doing this, man. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. You're Dean's brother,” he said with a shrug.

“Yeah, but you just met me.”

Cas looked up to see Sam staring down at his hands, his emotion obvious. He patted Sam's now covered foot and moved to the side of the bed. “Yes, but I care about Dean, and he cares about you, so I care about you.”

“That's not how it works. It's not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“You don't even know me, yet you're putting on my socks and bringing me apples and you pay attention. Like, how did you know I would like this book?” He held up the paperback as if it offended him.

“It is the next in the series that I saw on your bookshelves,” Cas said gently. “I'm sorry, Sam.”

“Yeah, well. We weren't together that long anyway. I've known her for years, but we've only been together a couple months.”

Cas didn't say anything, giving Sam space to talk.

“She said seeing me like that, unconscious, covered with wires and tubes, knowing I could have died, made her realize that she wasn't ready for a serious relationship. Said that I deserved someone better, deserved someone who was in it for the long haul.”

“Well, she's not wrong.” Sam looked up, startled. “I mean, it's obvious she was only in it for the sex.”

Sam stared at him for a long moment then started laughing, holding his bruised ribs in pain.

“Obviously,” he said with a smile, “whatever she was in it for, she didn't find it. Her loss, right?”

“I won't give you the standard assurances, Sam. No matter how long you were together, separation hurts and your emotions are valid.”

“My brother would tell me there are better chicks out there.”

“Your brother also finds it hilarious to stuff an entire cheeseburger in his mouth at one time. You can't always trust his judgment.”

Sam laughed softly. “True. Thanks, Cas.”

“You are welcome, Sam. What else do you need? Are you hungry?”

“The nurse said they would be bringing dinner soon. I'll be fine with what you brought until then. Why don't you go get some rest.”

“Are you sure? I can stay for a while if you want.”

“No, it's okay. I'm pretty tired anyway. Just promise to bring me real food for breakfast.”

“I promise. Goodnight, Sam.”

“See you, Cas. And thanks. For everything.”


	18. Chapter 18

Dean woke to a shift in weight on the mattress. The room was dark, save for the glow of the streetlights behind thick curtains, outlining Cas's silhouette where he sat on the edge of the bed, untying his shoes. Dean reached out and pressed his palm against Cas's back, his fingers spread across the tight muscles.

“How is he?”

“Tired. In pain. But he'll be okay.”

“She broke up with him.” Cas nodded and pulled his shirt over his head. Dean scrubbed a hand over his face and shifted to give Cas space beside him. “Is he good by himself tonight? Do I need to go up there?”

“I offered to stay and he said no. Made me promise to bring real food for breakfast. He will be fine until then.” Cas stood and let his jeans fall to the floor, then crawled in and slotted himself against Dean's side. Dean wrapped his arms around him and rubbed a hand down his back.

“I talked to the doctor on the way out. Hope you don't mind.”

“What did he say?”

“That Sam would be released in the next few days. They did a scan while we were gone and the concussion is healing well. They will do more tests tomorrow, but they think he is well enough to go home.”

“Guess we should figure out where home is, then.”

Cas propped himself up on his elbow. “I assumed he would be coming to Kansas, at least until the casts come off. That way you can go back to work.”

“Who's going to take care of him if I'm at work?”

“I will. At least until I find a job. By then he should be fairly self-sufficient.”

“He's my brother, Cas. My responsibility.”

“That doesn't mean I can't help you. What's the alternative?”

“I guess I just figured you would go back to Kansas and I would stay here.”

“Is that what you want?” Dean felt Cas shift minutely away from him.

“No, but if it's what needs to be done . . .”

“Then I'm staying, too.”

“Cas.”

“I'm not going to leave you out here to care for Sam alone.” He laid back down as if to end the discussion.

“Cas.”

“No, Dean.”

Dean sighed and pulled Cas closer. “I love it when you're this stubborn.”

“Damn right you do.”

Dean laughed and pulled him up into a kiss. “Maybe we can compromise. Maybe we can ask Anna to speak to the apartment manager, get us a bigger place. You can go home and start getting us moved in, then Sam and I will follow. You're right. We're burning through your savings and I need to get back to work. This way Sam's taken care of and we won't be apart for too long.”

Cas was quiet for so long, Dean began to wonder if he had drifted off. “I think,” he said slowly, “we should discuss it with Sam in the morning.”

“Fair enough. Now kiss me and get some sleep.” He sighed into the kiss, letting the quiet lull him back to sleep.

He woke before dawn to Cas suckling his soft cock.

“Cas?”

Cas stopped long enough to say “Good morning, Dean” before pressing kisses into the nest of dark blond hair. He massaged Dean's thighs and mouthed his way between Dean's legs.

“Not to sound ungrateful, but what are you doing?”

Cas looked up at him, Dean's hardening cock pressed against his cheek. “It's called a blow job, Dean.”

“I know what it is, Cas. I'm asking why.”

“The truth?”

“No, I want you to lie to me.”

“I had a dream about you in those panties I saw at the store yesterday, and when I woke up you were so pretty and soft, I had a desperate urge to put you in my mouth. So I did.”

“Wow.”

“May I continue?”

“Please.” Dean propped himself up, one arm bent behind his head so he could watch Cas bob between his thighs. He was flooded with sensations as Cas used hands and tongue and fingers and lips to probe and explore. He seemed to be everywhere at once, taking Dean's cock into his mouth as far as he could, then sucking the skin behind his sac and lightly licking the tight ring of muscle.

“Jesus, Cas. I'm not gonna last long if you keep doing that,” he said, which Cas seemed to take as a challenge. He smiled up at him before flattening his tongue against the underside of Dean's cock, letting the weight of it drag down until he could slide his lips around the crown. He suckled the head and pushed one hand under Dean's ass, canting his hips for better access. He leaned back, curling his long fingers around Dean's cock and pulling in tight strokes, watching the precome drip down before licking him clean again. Dean moaned at the sight, and could feel his muscles tighten in anticipation.

Cas hummed and began pressing open-mouthed kisses at the base of his cock, down his sac, mouthing at his balls, licking down to Dean's hole. He sucked and pressed as the muscle relaxed and opened to him. He pushed in with the tip of his tongue, lapping up the taste of him, and pulled back to nip at the sensitive skin before pushing back in.

Dean twitched and moaned, one hand balled in a fist behind his head, the other clenched in the sheets, trying not to buck but desperate to push himself back onto Cas's mouth. “Cas,” he gasped. “Fuck, I'm close.”

Cas licked across his hole once more and leaned up, a smile crinkling the corner of his eyes before taking Dean in. He sucked and pulled and pressed his thumb into Dean's hole. He looked up and that was all Dean needed to push him over the edge. The orgasm rushed through him and he watched Cas drink him down. He pulled every drop from Dean and licked his lips as he sat up, a look of amusement playing on his face.

Dean reached for him, threaded his fingers in his hair and pulled him in, kissing him hard, tasting himself on Cas's tongue.

“Thought you said you weren't very good at that.”

“I'm not, or, I wasn't.”

“Then where the fuck did you learn how to do that?”

“I have a vivid imagination. Was it okay?”

“Okay? No. That was fucking amazing.” Dean kissed him again and let his hands drift down Cas's body. He felt the pulse of Cas's cock against his leg and trailed a hand down his stomach, giving him plenty of time to pull away. Dean wrapped his fingers around him, and Cas moaned, pushing up into his fist.

“Is this okay?”

“You don't have to . . .”

“I want to, Cas.” He kissed down the line of his jaw to the tender skin behind his ear. He kissed and sucked down his neck and across his chest while pulling Cas's cock soft and slow. Cas rutted against him, matching his pace. Dean shifted, moving to kneel between Cas's legs, never loosening his grip, kissing his way down Cas's body. He pressed kisses into both thighs before burying his face between his legs, kissing and licking his way up Cas's cock. He took him in his mouth and with a gasp Cas thrust up into him. Dean pulled back enough to lick the precome from his slit before he sucked him down again. He bobbed up and down, looking up to see Cas's reaction, to see Cas's eyes on him. He rubbed a hand behind his sac and felt the muscle tremble. Cas gasped out a “yes” before Dean could ask permission. He pulled off Cas's cock with a wet pop and licked his way down to Cas's hole. Dean pressed his tongue to the ring of muscle, and Cas bucked, his moans becoming chants of Dean's name. Dean twisted his tongue around the tight muscle, keeping time with the pulls of his hand down Cas's cock. He moved agonizingly slow until Cas was writhing, his breath coming in a continuous moan, a sheen of sweat on his skin.

“Dean . . . Please . . .” he keened.

“What do you want me to do, Cas?” he asked, his lips ghosting over Cas's clenching hole.

“More. Please,” he said, breathless.

Dean pulled back to look in his eyes, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. “Are you sure?”

Cas nodded, his movement erratic. “Yes. Please, Dean.”

“Okay. Be right back.” He kissed the inside of Cas's knee and pushed himself off the bed. He dug through his suitcase and was back between Cas's legs before Cas could question him. He held up the small bottle for Cas to see, and the confused look fell away.

“You brought lube?”

“Wanted to be prepared. You want this, we're doing it right. I'm not gonna hurt you,” he said and kissed the jut of Cas's hipbone. “You start feeling weird, you say so. You want me to stop, you say so. Any reason at all, you say so. Got it?”

Cas nodded, panting. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Dean kissed his way from Cas's hips, across the smooth tan skin and trail of dark hair, while he poured lube into his hand and warmed it between his fingers. He watched Cas closely as he circled his hole, dipping the tip of one lubed finger in. Cas clenched around him as he rubbed gently, twisting his hand to spread the lube around. He waited for Cas to relax and pulled long tight strokes up his flagging erection.

“You ready?” he asked when he felt the muscle loosen around him. Cas breathed out a “yes,” his eyes wide and locked on Dean's. Dean began stroking slow and shallow, watching for any indication that Cas was uncomfortable. He pushed in softly, pausing when he got to the knuckle. Cas's breathing hitched when Dean pushed all the way in.

“You okay?”

Cas took a deep breath. “I'm not made of glass, Dean.”

Dean chuckled. “That your way of telling me to go faster?”

Cas canted his hips, fucking himself down on Dean's hand, then up into his fist, a moan catching in his throat.

Dean laughed softly and kissed his knee. He tightened his grip on Cas's cock, keeping his strokes long and slow to match the rhythm of his other hand. Cas whimpered when he pulled away to grab the lube and slick another finger. Cas gasped out expletives as he added a second, stroking a little faster. Precome dripped down Cas's cock, creating the obscene sound of slick skin against skin. Dean couldn't hold back, lapping it up as it dribbled down his shaft.

“God, Dean, yes,” was all the encouragement he needed to wrap his lips around Cas's cock, moaning himself when Cas bucked into him, then down onto his fingers. Dean found a rhythm and Cas matched him, stuttering only when Dean curled his fingers and found his prostate. A hand on the back of his head was the only warning Dean got before Cas was coming down his throat. Dean drank him in, pulling everything from him, slowing his fingers to feel the flutter of muscle inside Cas. He pulled off softly and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Cas was boneless beneath him, his eyes closed and his mouth open.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped.

“Not quite, but I'm pretty good. This is gonna feel weird,” he said as warning before slowly pulling his fingers from Cas's ass.

Cas groaned and pulled him up for a kiss, rough and hot, that left Dean panting almost as much as Cas. He wiped his hands on the sheets and pulled Cas close, letting him catch his breath.

“You know we need to get up and take Sam some breakfast. You promised.”

“No, thanks. I've already eaten,” Cas said, his voice far away.

Dean huffed a laugh. “Nope. You don't get to go back to sleep. We've got stuff to do, plans to make, and the sun is coming up.”

Cas grunted and pushed Dean away, curling onto his side for just a moment before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Next time I wake you up with a blow job, I better get to sleep in.”

“Whatever you say, dear.”

Cas flipped him off as he walked to the bathroom. Dean laughed and started pulling clothes from his suitcase.

By the time they got to Sam's room, the scans and tests had been run. They ate breakfast while they waited for the results.

“So,” Dean started, wiping crumbs from his hands, “Cas and I were talking about what you're going to do when you get out of here.”

“Well, I figured I would just go home. I mean, I should be able to manage on crutches, and I have friends who would go on supply runs for me. Why? What were you two thinking?”

“We want you to come to Kansas with us. Just until the casts come off and you can get around on your own.”

“We've been talking about moving in together,” Cas cut in. “We were considering moving into a larger apartment. One that would accommodate you as well as my sister. If you agree with our plan, I'll go back to Kansas and get that process started while Dean stays here.”

“You guys are going to move because of me? I can't ask you to do that.”

“You're not asking. We've been planning this for a while. You're just the catalyst that puts the plan in motion,” Dean answered.

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course. We know you have your life here. This would be a temporary arrangement. As soon as you're well, we'll move you back, help you get readjusted.”

“Thanks, Cas. It's just a lot to think about all at once.”

“Understandable. If you'll excuse me, I need to check in on Anna.” Cas glanced back at Dean before leaving the room.

“Is he doing the 'I'll let you talk' thing?” Sam asked.

“He probably is calling his sister, but yeah. He's not great at subtle.”

“I'm glad you're happy, Dean. Moving in together. That's a big step.”

“We live a floor apart. We're already together all the time anyway. And with Cas losing his job, it's just easier to have one set of bills instead of two.” Dean tried to shrug it off but Sam gave him a wide grin. “What?”

“You love him.”

“Yeah, I do.” He could feel the blush creep up his face. “Enough of the touchy-feely crap.”

“But you're so adorable when you blush like that.”

“All right, asshole. Get your licks in while you can, because once you're out of that bed, you're fair game.”

Cas knocked as he pushed the door open. “The doctor is here to talk to Sam.”

“Mr. Winchester. I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that you have two broken ribs that were missed on the initial x-rays. There isn't much we can do other than give you painkillers and tell you to take it easy. It also means no crutches.”

“And the good news?” Sam asked.

“The CT shows much improvement since you were first admitted, and I don't anticipate any long-term effects. But, as with any brain injury, we will want to monitor your recovery.”

“Okay,” Sam said after a beat. “When am I getting out of here?”

"The cardiologist requested another MRI, just to make sure the bruising is healing like it should be, and I'm waiting on your neurologist to sign off. Shouldn't be but another day or two."

“Thanks, doc.” Dean stood and shook his hand. He excused himself and left the room.

“How soon can you get that new apartment?” Sam asked as soon as the door closed.

“I'm not sure. Why?” Cas asked.

“Can you make sure it's on the ground floor? Going up stairs with a wheelchair would be interesting.”

“Of course. I'll get started on that as soon as we get you settled.”

“Wait. Your apartment is on the second floor. No elevator,” Dean said.

Cas pulled his phone from his pocket. “I'll see if the hotel can get us into adjoining rooms. If that's okay?” He looked up at Sam.

“Yeah, Cas. That's fine. Thank you.”

Cas stepped into the hallway to make the call and Dean turned to his brother. “What's with the look?”

“What look?”

“That look. The dopey grin and puppy-dog eyes.”

“Nothing. Just, you two. You're good together.”

“You're not going to do this the whole time you're in Kansas, are you? Because it's going to get old quick.”

“Would you rather I be grossed out by it, because it's kinda disgusting.”

“All right, enough.” He took a breath. “You going to be okay living with us? I mean, we don't dry hump on the couch or anything, but, you know, I'm going to kiss him whether you're in the room or not.”

“Yeah, Dean, it's fine. No more weird than any other relationship you've been in.”

“Because if it's weird, we'll keep the separate apartments.”

"It's not weird. I like Cas."

"I like you, too, Sam." Cas pushed into the room with a small grin. "The nurse is here to change your dressing." 

Dean waited until they were distracted to brush his fingers down Cas's arm. "What did Anna say?"

"That she spoke with the manager last week and they have us on the waiting list. It shouldn't be longer than the end of the month before they have something open up."

"Why did she..."

"Because she's Anna. She decided to take matters into her own hands after I spoke to her about it. She also offered to move back to New York so I could give up my apartment sooner, but I declined. The longer she's out of the city, the better."

"Did you tell her about the wheelchair thing?"

"I did, and she said she would call them first thing in the morning."

"Your sister is awesome."

"She certainly has her moments."


	19. Chapter 19

Two weeks after Sam left the hospital, Cas was home in Kansas desperately missing his boyfriend.

“Just hire a moving company, Cas. It's their job to pick up the heavy stuff.”

“You know we can't afford that.”

“We can't afford for you to hurt yourself trying to drag that heavy-ass dresser down two flights of stairs, either, babe.”

“Fine. You've made your point. When are you going to be home?”

“As soon as we can get the last of Sam's stuff packed up and in storage. The stuff we shipped off should be there in a day or two.”

“Anything new from the firm?”

“The IT lady is here now getting Sam's laptop attached to the network or whatever it is. Some kind of voodoo ritual, I think. There are candles and chicken bones involved.”

“Don't listen to him, Cas. It's KFC,” Sam yelled from the background.

“Wouldn't that be hoodoo, then? Eleven secret spices?”

Dean burst into laughter and repeated the joke to Sam when he caught his breath. Cas smiled when he heard Sam groan.

“He's regretting this move already,” Cas laughed.

“Too late now. He's stuck with us.” The background noise was gone and Dean was quieter when he spoke again. “I miss you, babe.”

“I miss you, too. When does your flight get in?”

“Half past three tomorrow afternoon. It's the earliest flight I could get.”

“I'll try to have everything set up by then. At least have Sam's room ready. We can sleep in one of the other apartments if absolutely necessary.”

“I don't care where I sleep as long as it's next to you.”

Cas huffed a laugh. “That's possibly the cheesiest thing I've ever heard you say.”

“Yeah, well. Don't make it less true.”

“I love you.”

“I know. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” Cas sank down onto the bed as he hung up. He took several deep breaths, letting the emotion roll over him.

Anna knocked on his door, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Hey. Was that Dean? Are they on their way?”

“No. Their flight doesn't arrive until tomorrow afternoon. He suggested I use a moving company for the rest of the furniture.”

“That would definitely get the job done faster than you doing it yourself.”

“If you two are just going to gang up on me constantly, I'm staying in my own apartment.”

“No you won't because you know we're right. Do you want me to call or can I go finish packing?”

“I'll make the call.”

An hour later, four large men were at his door with straps and dollies, ready to work. It took a little over three hours to move all of his and Anna's furniture down the two flights of stairs, and another hour to move Sam's. Cas cleaned for the rest of the afternoon, leaving Anna to set up the new place. By the time she made him come down to eat, his apartment was spotless and completely empty.

When he crawled into bed that night, he hugged Dean's pillow and tried to ignore the dull ache that had settled in his chest.

He woke early the next day, legs tangled in the sheets, quilt hanging half off the bed. He set the coffee pot to brew while he took a quick shower. He was dressed and sipping his second cup when Anna stumbled into the kitchen, still rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“What's the plan for today?” she asked with a yawn.

Cas handed her a clean mug. “I'll finish Sam's room if you'll work in here. Remember that I still have to bring Dean's stuff down, too.”

“Are we combining?”

“As much as we can. I'll let him decide what to do with the excess with he gets here. Speaking of, I have to leave here by two at the latest. Don't let me forget.”

“No problem,” she yawned again.

He patted her shoulder and left her to wake up. He stood in Sam's doorway mentally listing all the things he needed to get done before leaving for the airport. He stripped and remade the bed, and rearranged the furniture to give Sam better access with the wheelchair. He stopped to check on Anna, who had moved on to rearranging the living room, before going up to Dean's apartment. Cas caught himself staring blankly ahead, overwhelmed with the task, more than once. He boxed up books and clothes and things he thought Dean would want first, and was making his third trip down when he noticed how late it was.

“Do you want to come with me?” he asked Anna as he changed out of his dusty clothes.

“Nope. I'll stay and take care of dinner. Besides, it will be hard enough fitting just the three of you in the car.”

“Fair point. I'll be back as soon as possible.” He kissed her cheek and locked the door behind him.

His phone buzzed as he pulled into a parking space outside the terminal.

_Just landed. Meet you at baggage claim. D_

He wound his way through the crowd, following the signs and getting turned around twice. When he finally found the right carousel, Sam and Dean were sitting waiting for him, bags at their feet.

Dean jumped up, smiling wide, as soon as he spotted Cas. He moved to fold him into a hug, but Cas back away quickly. Too many people watching, too many eyes on him. He caught the hurt in Dean's eyes before he turned away.

“Hello, Sam,” he said, trying to cover the awkward moment. “How was your flight?”

“It was okay, I guess. A little bumpy, but not too bad.”

“It was horrible and we almost died,” Dean cut in. “If God meant for people to fly, He would have given us wings.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It wasn't that bad.”

Cas led the way to the car, arms loaded with suitcases. Dean didn't say much, and Cas let the uncomfortable mood hang between them, unwilling to subject Sam to that discussion.

The ride back was quiet. Sam and Cas made small talk while Dean was mostly silent. The only indication that he was following the conversation were the quick glances at Cas he stole in the rearview mirror.

When they got to the apartment, Cas hung back, letting Dean and Sam discover it together. He unloaded the car slowly and was shutting the trunk just as Dean came out to help.

“Dean,” Cas started, but Dean held up a hand to stop him.

“Later. Anna has dinner laid out. My brother is exhausted and in pain. I'm going to take care of him and then we'll deal with this, okay?” He walked off before Cas could answer.

Dinner was awkward save for Anna's enthusiasm and Sam's curiosity. They hit it off well and maintained the conversation for all of them. After dessert, they piled into the living room to watch a movie. Thirty minutes into The French Connection Dean slipped from the room and didn't return. Sam and Anna fell asleep before the end. Cas quietly turned off the television as the credits started to roll. He covered Sam with a blanket and bundled Anna off to her own bed.

He couldn't bring himself to go to bed knowing Dean was angry and would turn away from him. He couldn't handle being so close to him and yet so far. He turned off all the lights and grabbed his keys.

He made his way up to Dean's apartment, glad he hadn't yet stripped the bed. He left his clothes in a pile on the floor and curled into the bed, breathing in the scent of Dean on the pillows. His heart ached and he didn't bother to stop the tears that trailed down his cheeks.

He drifted in and out of uneasy sleep, and woke with a start a few hours before sunrise. He could barely make out an outline in the doorway, a shadow in the darkness.

“Dean?”

“What are you doing here, Cas?”

“Sleeping. Or, trying to.”

“Why are you sleeping here? Why didn't you come to bed? Our bed?” he asked as he stepped closer.

“I thought you were mad at me, and the couch was taken.”

Dean sighed and sank down onto the mattress. “I'm not mad, Cas. I'm . . . Confused. Disappointed. I don't know what exactly, but I'm not mad.”

“Because I wouldn't kiss you at the airport?”

“Because I haven't seen you in two fucking weeks and you would hardly look at me. I understand, Cas, I really do, but you gotta know how bad that hurt.”

“I didn't mean to hurt you. I just . . . There were so many people and I just couldn't. I'm sorry.”

“I know. You don't have to apologize. When stuff like that happens, all I can think is 'he doesn't love me anymore' or 'he's finally figured out he's getting the bad end of this deal.' That you're leaving me.”

“You know that's not true.”

“Yeah, but it doesn't stop me thinking it.”

Cas sat up and wrapped his arms around Dean, pressing his chest to Dean's back.

“I missed you so much, Cas. You don't even know. I love my little brother, but it was so hard being there by myself. End of the day, I just wanted to hold you, to feel you sleeping next to me. And then I'm finally home and I wake up and you're not there.”

“I'm sorry,” Cas said, and pressed a kiss to the top of Dean's spine.

“Can I kiss you? Please?” Dean asked, his voice small.

Cas moved around him and cupped his face with both hands. He pressed a gentle kiss to Dean's lips and let Dean pull him closer. The kiss deepened and Dean laid him back onto the pillows, his hands trailing down Cas's body.

“God I missed you,” he murmured, moving down Cas's neck, leaving a trail of kisses across the curve of his shoulder, the dip of his collarbone. Cas spread his hands around Dean's waist, kneading the muscle there, pulling him in.

Dean stopped and pushed away to look in Cas's eyes. “I just want to hold you. To sleep. No sex. I need to know you're next to me.”

Cas nodded, and Dean stood to undress, throwing his clothes on top of Cas's. He curled into Cas's side, and Cas held him close and waited for his breathing to even out before drifting off to sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

“Hey, babe. You have two missed calls.”

Cas was wrist deep in dishwater when Dean came around the corner, cell phone in hand.

“From whom?”

“First from Raphael, second from Michael. Looks like one of them left a message.”

“Want me to call?” Anna offered from the living room where she and Sam were watching television.

“No, thank you. I'll call them back later.”

It was early afternoon on a Saturday, three weeks after bringing Sam to Kansas. The four of them had eased into something of a routine that mostly involved Dean and Cas trying to keep their behavior PG, and Sam and Anna announcing themselves before they entered a room.

Dean stepped behind Cas and wrapped his arms around him, pressing his face to the curve of Cas's neck, breathing him in.

“Are you going to be late again tonight?” Cas asked, scrubbing a plate a little more forcefully than necessary.

“It'll probably be after three when I get out of there. I'll try not to wake you up when I get in.” Dean had gone back to the Roadhouse shortly after coming home. Ellen was happy to have him back, even if it was only for two shifts a week.

“So, no wake up blow job?”

“Guys, we're right here,” Sam called from the couch.

“Not tonight,” Dean answered, ignoring his brother. “Maybe in the morning if you're lucky.” He pushed his hand past the waistband of Cas's pajama pants and gripped his ass.

“Dean! Right. Here.”

“Then don't look!” Dean laughed at Sam's exasperated huff. Cas smiled, which Dean considered a win. “See you when I get home.”

Cas turned to kiss him. “I love you. Please be careful.”

“I will, babe. Later, Sam. See you, Anna.” Dean grabbed the keys to Cas's car and closed the door to a chorus of goodbyes.

He hated how easy it was to fall back into the routine of the bar. The place hadn't changed in the short time he's been gone, except the new bartender was just the bartender and draft beer had gone up a quarter a pint. Other than that, same barflies, same dust bunnies collecting on the top of the mounted deer heads. Dean tried to keep his head down and do his job, but it was harder than it had once been. A couple hours into his shift, he found himself wishing he was curled up with a book on the couch next to Cas. After being splashed with liquor for the fourth time and physically restraining himself from feeding the bartender his teeth, Dean was at his limit.

“Hey, Ellen. Got a minute?” Dean tapped on her office door.

“Sure. What's on your mind?”

“You gotta get that bartender under control. He's wasting money, throwing booze all over the damn place. It's great for show, but people don't come here for that. They come here because the beer is cheap and the music's loud.”

“Is that right?”

“You know it is. You got a great place here, Ellen. You don't need all that fancy shit. He's a great guy and I like him a lot, but . . .”

She sat back and eyed him for a moment. “You quittin', Winchester?”

He scrubbed a hand down his face and didn't answer.

“Seems to me you need this job,” she continued. “You got that boyfriend of yours, and your brother, and you need the money. Oh, don't look so surprised. I knew how gone you were the first night he walked in.”

Dean fixed his expression, trying to hide behind the mask he usually wore.

She sighed and nodded. “You're not wrong about Garth. Boy's a bit too enthusiastic. Had to raise my beer prices to compensate for the booze he's slinging. I'll have to replace the TV above the bar pretty soon if he keeps it up. But wipe that smirk off your face. This may come as a shock to you, but there was quite a shift in bodies when you left. Guys who hadn't crossed my threshold in years suddenly lining my bar. They ran off all the college kids, which was no small loss. Wasn't until Ash overheard one of them making a joke about _Brokeback Mountain_ that I put two and two together.”

Dean cringed at the implication, and Ellen continued. “Why didn't you tell me? You don't have to put up with that shit.”

“Just part of the job, Ellen.”

“No, it ain't. Your job is to haul heavy shit and bust up fights, not get badmouthed by assholes.”

Dean looked her square in the eye, almost in challenge.

“Dean,” she said softly. “I don't care who you fuck, so long as you do your job. And if those dumbasses out there have a problem with it, they can drink somewhere else. It's not their business. Next time someone says something to you, throw them out. Just make sure they pay their tab first.”

He huffed a small laugh. “You don't have to do that. This is your business. I don't want special treatment.”

“And I don't want bigots in my bar.”

“Thanks, Ellen.”

“Get back to work, Dean.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He smiled as he left her office.

The rest of the night went smoothly. He broke up a fight between a biker and a barfly before it got started, kicked out an old drunk who insisted on calling him Nancy, and bought a round of shots for a group of tech geeks who just got their project funded. Before he knew it, it was closing time and he was manning the door, making sure everyone got to their car or cab safely, and locked up. He helped Ellen prep for the next day and helped Garth clean the bar and bit back a yawn when he realized it was time for him to go.

He found Ellen counting down the till at her desk. “I was going to take off. Want me to stay until that's in the safe?”

“No, you go on. Garth and Ash are here. We'll see you next week.” She handed over his cut for the night.

“See you next week.”

He tiptoed through the dark apartment, stopping to check in on his brother before heading to bed. He stripped his sweat- and alcohol-soaked clothes in the bathroom as the shower warmed. He didn't bother to dress when he was done, just ran a towel over his skin and dropped into bed.

“Hi,” Cas said, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Hey, babe.” Dean curled around him, pressing his chest to Cas's back, tangling their legs together.

“How was work?”

“Broke up a fight, kicked an asshole out, and made a couple hundred bucks for my trouble.”

“Good job. Now kiss me so I can go back to sleep.”

“So demanding.” He smiled as Cas turned to him. He hummed into the kiss, rubbing his hands across Cas's skin.

“Go to sleep and I'll make you pancakes in the morning,” Cas said, pressing into Dean's arms.

“No good morning blow job?” Dean teased.

“We'll see. Goodnight.”

Dean pressed a kiss behind his ear. “Goodnight.”

He woke hours later to a yelling match and a slamming door. He pulled on sweats and a t-shirt and rubbed sleep from his eyes as he made his way to the kitchen. “What's going on?”

Cas stood at the stove, his fists balled until his knuckles were white. “Nothing, Dean. It's nothing.”

“Sure sounded like it.” He grabbed a mug and poured himself a cup of coffee. Sam and Anna were nowhere to be seen; they had the room to themselves. “Just tell me if I need to go kick Sam's ass, 'cause I'm gonna need to wake up first.”

“No, it's not Sam.”

Dean ran his hand down Cas's back and felt him lean into the touch. “Cas?”

“We need to talk,” he said, finally turning to face Dean.

“Can I have breakfast first?”

“If you want.”

“I was promised pancakes or a blow job,” he joked, trying to dispel the tension.

“Pancakes it is.” Cas gave him a small smile as he moved to pull the ingredients together. Dean sat at the kitchen table nursing his coffee, watching his boyfriend work, trying not to worry.

“Where's Sam?”

“Still in bed as far as I know. They were up late watching movies.”

“Is there anything going on there that I need to know about?”

“I doubt it, but you should ask him.”

They ate in comfortable silence, Dean reaching a hand to Cas's thigh. Sam joined them halfway through the meal.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam started as Cas cleared the table. “Could you help me with a shower?”

“Yeah, sure. Now?”

“Whenever,” he said in a tone that suggested he meant otherwise.

“Go get your stuff. Let's make this quick.” Sam hated asking for help, but that was the one thing he couldn't do alone. Standing one-armed and one-legged in the shower without getting his casts wet was impossible. He conceded to his brother's help after he tried to go it alone and fell, nearly breaking his other arm.

Dean started the water and waited for Sam to wheel himself in. He held Sam up while he pulled off his clothes, then lifted him into the tub.

“This will never stop being embarrassing,” Sam said as he hobbled his way under the spray.

“Shut up. I've been wiping your ass since you were an infant.”

“Doesn't make it any easier.”

“You would rather a nurse come give you sponge baths?”

“Depends on the nurse,” Sam answered with a laugh.

Dean handed him a washcloth, and scrubbed his hair while Sam washed himself.

“What's going on with Anna?” Dean asked after the first rinse.

“Nothing, so far as I know.”

“But you like her.”

“Yeah, but in a 'you're my brother's boyfriend's sister' kind of way. Can we not talk about this while I'm naked?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Dean, I'm sure.”

Dean let the matter drop until he was helping Sam back into his chair. “You'd tell me, right? If you liked her like that?”

“Yeah. I'm not looking to score, man. We're friends, but that's it.”

“Okay. Good talk, Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes and wheeled into his room.

He found Cas sitting in the middle of their bedroom floor folding laundry. He sat down next to him and grabbed a pair of socks. “Just so you know, there's nothing going on between Sam and Anna.”

“I didn't think there was.”

“Well, now we know for sure. What did you want to talk about?”

Cas let out a sigh and put away the shirt he was folding. “Do you remember the calls I had from Michael and Raphael yesterday?”

“Vaguely. Why?”

“Michael didn't leave a message, but Raph did.” He reached up to his phone where it rested on the bed and pressed a few buttons.

“ _Nothing is more important than family. Do you remember that, Castiel?_ ”

“Creepy.”

“It's what he said when he agreed to let me use the plane.”

“Did you call him back?”

“After I called Michael. He would only say that Raph is in charge of his firm and that his decisions are his own, that Michael has no part in it.”

“That doesn't sound ominous.”

“Michael usually backs whatever Raph does, but this time he's separating himself.”

“So what did Raphael say?”

“He wants me to analyze data and investigate profit loss for one of his international investments. What I can't figure out is why he would want me to do it instead of his audit department, whose job it is to review this kind of investment.”

“I don't know. It sounds fishy to me, but then I know nothing about what it is you do.”

“I know exactly what I'm doing and it sounds fishy to me, too. But I'm more concerned with what he'll do if I decline. I owe him.”

"Okay, talk me through it. What happens if you say no?"

"He would do everything in his power to destroy me, personally and professionally. Even to the point of using the university's hearing against me."

"What do you mean?"

"Accusations of sexual deviancy would ruin my chances of finding a teaching position.”

"He would do that to you?"

"Oh yes, and wouldn't think twice about it."

“That seems pretty extreme.”

“My brother isn't fond of being told no.”

"Yeah, I'm getting that. What happens if you say yes?"

Cas sighed. "Worst case scenario, I fly to Europe for a year, do some research, live in New York while the report is reviewed, defend the report, go back to Europe, do more research, make an addendum to the report, wait while it's reviewed, repeat ad infinitum."

"You're brother is so desperate, he would do that to you?"

"That and much more. What you are forgetting is that while under my brother's employ, I won't be allowed to speak to you or see you or acknowledge that you are anything more than a friend who agreed to care for Anna in my absence. Potentially for years.”

“All that for a plane ride?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I'm sorry. I made the decision. I don't regret getting you to your brother as quickly as I did.”

“But Cas—“

“No. Whatever happens, it was worth it.”


	21. Chapter 21

Cas continued to fold laundry rather than watch the war of emotions play across Dean's face.

“How long would you be gone?”

“I don't know. Maybe a year. Maybe longer.”

Dean nodded and picked up another pair of socks. “Is that what the yelling and slamming was about earlier?”

Cas nodded. “Anna thinks I should reject Raphael's proposal. I couldn't make her understand the consequences of doing so.”

“She doesn't know about the hearing.”

“No, and I would like to keep it that way.”

Dean nodded, and they sat leaning against one another until the laundry was folded and put away.

“What are you going to do?” Dean finally asked.

“Do what he asks as quickly and efficiently as possible so I can come home to you.”

“And what am I going to do? And Sam and Anna?”

Cas shrugged. “What you did before? Work, watch television, eat too much pizza, worry about your brother. Anna will probably stay here. She likes you, and she likes Sam. And I assumed Sam would stay through his recovery, as we discussed.”

Dean nodded, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“You don't have to wait for me,” Cas started. “If this is too much, I would understand if you—“

“No.” Dean cut him off with a growl.

“I know this will be hard for you, Dean.”

“Hard doesn't mean I go looking for someone to share my bed. I told you I'm in this for the long haul, and I meant it.”

Cas leaned into him and Dean wrapped him in his arms.

“We'll get through this, Cas. Just like we've gotten through everything else.”

They sat wrapped up in each other until they heard Anna emerge from her room.

“Guess we should tell them.”

“If we must,” Cas said with a sigh.

“Come on,” Dean said, smacking his palm on Cas's thigh. “We'll make something special for dinner and when they're full and sleepy, we'll hit 'em with it.”

“That's a bit underhanded.”

“But effective,” Dean said with a smile.

“Love you,” Cas said, and Dean pushed in for a kiss.

They danced around each other in the kitchen, the radio tuned to the local classic rock station. Cas chopped vegetables for a salad while Dean layered together a lasagna. Sam was laid out on the couch with a book and Anna glared at her laptop at the kitchen table. It was warm and comfortable and _home_ , and Cas could have cried.

He stopped what he was doing and stared. Stared at his boyfriend humming along with Zep's “Whole Lotta Love” as he stirred the contents of the skillet. Stared at his sister as she subconsciously tapped her toe to the beat. Stared at Sam, whose eyelids were drooping from the pain meds. When Dean turned and caught him, Cas hastily excused himself and fled to the bathroom.

He sat on the edge of the tub, head in his hands, and tried to focus on breathing. He couldn't leave, couldn't do what Raph wanted him to do, consequences be damned. Dean found him a few minutes later, still bent at the waist, arms wrapped around his knees. He took a seat next to him and laid a hand on Cas's back.

“Having second thoughts?”

“Second, eighth, ninety-ninth. I can't do it. Can't leave you. Can't leave our home.”

“Okay.” Dean rubbed his hand up and down Cas's back and Cas felt himself relax into the touch.

“But if I don't, he'll make our lives miserable.”

“Okay.”

“You're just going to agree with whatever I say, aren't you.”

“I'm way out of my depth here, Cas. I don't know your brothers and have no clue when it comes to what you do. All I can do is stand behind you, no matter what you decide. If you go, I'll hate it, but I'll be here for you in any way I can. If you stay, I'll support you a hundred percent. But I can't make the decision for you.”

“Are you sure, because that would be really helpful.”

Dean chuckled and pulled Cas close. “I'm sure. Come on. Dinner is almost done. You don't have to decide right now. We can put off telling them until you're ready.”

“No, I know what I have to do. Might as well get it over with.”

When they returned to the kitchen, Cas set the table while Dean pulled the lasagna from the oven. Sam and Anna exchanged a glance as soon as they were settled.

“So, are you guys going to tell us what's going on, or as we just supposed to act like nothing's wrong?”

“Sam—“ Dean started, but Cas cut him off with a hand on his shoulder.

“They have a right to know. They are adults and this affects them, too.”

“Cas, you don't have to—”

“Yes, I do.” Cas took a deep breath. “My brother Raphael has asked me to come work for him. It won't be a permanent situation, but I may be gone for some time.”

“How long?” Sam asked.

“I don't know. Could be months. Could be years.”

“Gone where?”

“Spain,” Cas said and slid a look at Dean.

“Okay, so you go, do your thing, come back, right?”

“It's not that simple,” Cas started, but Anna cut in.

“What Cassie isn't telling you is that Raphael is a religious fanatic and a sexist, homophobic asshole. As long as he's under Raph's thumb, Cas won't be allowed to speak to Dean.”

“Oh. So you say no.”

“Again, it's not that simple. It was Raphael's plane that got your brother to you so quickly after the accident. I owe him a debt.”

“So your homophobic brother makes you pay back a plane ride by cutting you off from your boyfriend and making you pretend he doesn't exist.”

“That would be the condensed version, yes.”

“And you're okay with that?” Sam shifted his glare between Cas and Dean.

“No, of course not,” Cas said.

“But we don't have much of a choice,” Dean said.

Sam looked at his brother. “And what are you going to do?”

“Go on with my life as best I can, and be here when he gets back.”

“You're just going to get up and go to work every day and pretend your boyfriend isn't thousands of miles away. Go on with your life like he doesn't exist.”

“No. I'm going to hate every goddamn second of it. I'm going to drink too much and work insane hours and do everything in my power to keep him off my mind and fail miserably.” Dean glared at Sam, and tension filled the room until Cas laid his hand on Dean's knee.

“Dean . . .”

“I'm sorry, Cas. This sucks and I hate it, but I'm with you. We'll deal until you get home.” He stabbed a bite of lettuce with his fork and stuffed it in his mouth.

“Well, I for one think you're being ridiculous.” They all turned to look at Anna as she continued. “Just tell him no. Quit letting him have power over your life. He's your brother, not your father.”

“You know I can't do that. He would destroy me. Destroy us.”

“No more than he is now.” Anna stood and threw her napkin onto the table. “Thank you for dinner, Dean. It was very good. I'll be in my room if you want to watch a movie later, Sam.”

They watched her stomp to her room and shut the door.

“Is she right?” Dean asked quietly.

“No. She has more faith in Michael than I do.”

“What do you mean?”

“She insists that Michael would do the right thing and return my trust to me if I asked. She thinks that because it is morally right, he can't refuse. And she thinks that if my trust were returned to me, I wouldn't have to worry about Raphael and whatever harm he could potentially do.”

“Well, she's not wrong about the money,” Sam spoke up. “If the trust was returned to you, you wouldn't have to worry about income based on your professional reputation. And that's money he wouldn't be able to touch.”

“But she is wrong about Michael changing his mind.” 

“How do you know?” Dean asked.

“Because I asked. Months ago, when I was last at the estate.” Cas looked up at him. “He asked if I was finally ready to come home, join my brothers in the family business. I told him no. He told me that he couldn't justify giving our father's money to me if I was just going to throw it away.”

Cas watched Dean expression go hard, his eyes darken and his jaw clench. He shrugged and rubbed circles into Dean's thigh.

“Have you considered trying to liberate it? Take it from Michael's control?” Sam asked.

“He's the executor. I don't think there's much I can do.”

“I could look into it for you, if you want. It would give me something to do between correcting contracts and writing briefs.”

Cas looked uncertain, and Dean spoke up. “Easier to make a decision when you have all the information.”

Cas looked up at him and nodded. “Okay.”

Sam nodded and wheeled himself to the kitchen counter to grab a notebook. He asked questions and made notes to himself while they finished dinner.

Dean sighed and pushed his plate away, dropping his hand to his lap to cover Cas's. “I still don't like this.”

“Neither do I.”

“So, what? You just gotta call him or something?”

“Yes.”

“Can that wait until tomorrow?”

Cas gave him a small smile. “Yes, of course.”

They finished their meal in silence, then stood to clean the kitchen together. Sam pulled his laptop to the table and declined their offer of a movie and popcorn. Cas gave him details about the trust, then curled onto the couch with Dean. He stopped trying to follow the plot twenty minutes in, and instead stared blankly at the screen, his ear pressed to Dean's chest. He listened to Dean's heartbeat and let the soft rhythm of his breathing calm him.

“You're not watching, are you?” Dean asked softly, looking down at him and running his fingers through Cas's hair.

“No. Sorry. I got lost in the first act.”

Dean chuckled. “Ready to go to bed?”

“Isn't it,” Cas yawned, “too early?”

“Nah. I have to meet Benny at seven to get to the job site on time.” Dean hit a button on the remote and shut off the television.

Cas stood and stretched as Dean said goodnight to his brother. They made their way to their bedroom, not bothering to turn on the light as they stripped and climbed into bed. Cas folded around Dean, his chest to Dean's back, and stroked his hand down Dean's torso. Dean caught his hand and held it to his heart, and Cas pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“How are we going to do this? Write letters? Email?” Dean turned to face him. “I can't not see you, talk to you. I just can't.”

Cas shook his head. “I don't know. If Raphael finds out . . .”

“You really think he'd go through your mail?”

“I wouldn't put it past him. It wouldn't be difficult for his IT department to get into my email.”

“What about that video chat thing, like Sam does with his office?”

“If they can intercept my email, I doubt video conferencing software is beyond their skill set.”

Dean sighed and pulled Cas closer. “I don't care if I have to send telegrams, I can't do this without you.”

Cas leaned up and kissed him. “Yes, you can. We'll figure it out.”

They lay curled together, quiet, Cas letting Dean's steady breathing lull him to sleep.

At dawn he crept to the kitchen and dialed Raphael's number.

“Castiel. Have you considered my offer?”

“I'm tired of these games, Raphael. If I do this for you, once, will leave me alone?”

“Of course, Castiel. I expect you in my office a week from Thursday, eight sharp.”

“I'll be there.”

“And Castiel? Don't be late.”

He hung up without another word. Cas hugged the phone to his chest and sank to the floor, his tears falling unchecked as he trembled with silent sobs.


	22. Chapter 22

A crack of thunder woke Dean minutes before his alarm was set to go off. He reached for Cas and sat up when his fingers brushed cold sheets.

“Cas?” He rubbed sleep from his eyes and pulled on a pair of sweats. “Babe?”

He found him sitting in the kitchen floor, back to the wall, knees drawn up, arms hugged tight around himself. Dean squatted in front of him and reached for Cas's hands. “Cas? Why are you in here?”

Cas didn't look up, but handed over the phone.

“You called Raphael.”

Cas nodded.

“What did you say?”

“That I accepted his offer.” His voice was wrecked from sleeplessness and silent sobs.

“And what did he say?” Dean sat and pulled Cas to him.

“That I have to be in his office at eight in the morning, Thursday after next.”

“Ten days.”

Cas sniffed and buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck. “I can't do this, Dean. I just can't.”

“Okay, shh . . .” Dean rubbed his hands down Cas's spine. “Yes, you can. We'll get through this.”

Sam wheeled in, his face scrunched in a yawn. “What are you guys doing up – Oh.”

“Sammy, would you go get Anna, please?”

Sam turned back toward her room. A few minutes later, Anna shuffled into the room and stopped short when she caught sight of her brother.

“Sorry to wake you, Anna,” Dean started.

“What's going on?”

“He called Raphael this morning.”

Her expression went cold. “How long?”

“Ten days.”

“Oh, Castiel.” She knelt and folded him into a hug.

After a moment, Dean cleared his throat. “Um, Anna, would you fill Sam in? I'm going to,” he brushed a hand down Cas's back, “yeah.”

Anna nodded and followed Sam to the living room. Dean coaxed Cas into standing and half-carried him to their bed.

“You're going to be late to work,” Cas complained as Dean pulled the quilt up and tucked him in.

“You're more important. Probably going to be called off, anyway. Can't pour concrete in the rain.” As if on cue, Dean's phone started ringing. He raised an eyebrow at Cas as he answered. “Hey, Benny.”

“It's comin' a flood, brother. Boss man wants to know if you'll take a demo job at a warehouse out by the airport. Work a half-day, make time and a half.”

“Hang on a sec.” He covered the microphone and turned to Cas. “Boss has a demo job, but it's only a half-day. Do you need me to stay home?”

“No. You go. I'll just rest until you get back.” Dean gave him a look and Cas took his hand. “Honest. I'll be fine until you get home.”

Dean wasn't convinced but wouldn't press the issue. He put the phone to his ear. “Yeah, I'll take the demo job. You want to pick me up here or do I need to meet you?”

“I'll be to your place in ten.”

See you then.” Dean hung up and squeezed Cas's hand. “I'm going to go tell Anna what's going on so she can look in on you, okay? And don't be a stubborn shit. Let her take care of you until I get back.”

“Okay, Dean.” Cas curled around his pillow and offered no argument.

He dressed quickly, old worn-out jeans and t-shirt. He laid a soft kiss on Cas's forehead and stroked his fingers through his hair. “Do you want me to stay home?”

“Yes, but we can't risk you losing your place on the crew.”

“I'll call Benny. Tell him it's a family emergency.”

“I think we used up all your 'family emergency' excuses when you were in California. Go. I'll be fine.”

He kissed Cas gently, and quietly closed the door.

Dean found Sam and Anna tucked close together on the couch, his arm curved protectively around her shoulders. Sam's wheelchair was sitting just out of the way, and _Mad Max_ was playing on the television, but he doubted either of them was actually watching it. “You up to speed?”

“I think so. Cas has to be in New York ten days from now?” Sam asked.

“Yep. No idea how long he'll be there before flying to Europe.

“So, what do we do?”

“Right now, I have to go to work. Should be home by one. Anna, if you could keep an eye on him until I get back? See if you can get him to eat something?”

“Sure, Dean.” She looked like she would break down any second, her shoulders drawn tight and her eyes bright with unshed tears.

Dean put a hand on her shoulder. “We'll get through this. I promise. We'll figure it out, okay?” He dropped a kiss on top of her head when she nodded. “Y'all watch a movie or something. Or go back to bed. It's too damn early for anyone to be up who doesn't have to be. Be back in a few hours.” He clapped his brother on his shoulder and grabbed his tool belt. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was leaving a house of mourning.

Work was brutal, hot and humid, the air stifling in the closed off building. He swung a sledgehammer for five hours with only a short water break in the middle. His frustration clung to him like drywall dust. At the end of his shift, his back was on fire and he couldn't lift his arms above his head. Benny dropped him off at his doorstep as the rain poured down slow and heavy. He half expected to find everyone as he had left them, but quiet surrounded him as he opened the door and dropped his tool belt off to the side.

Sam was in the kitchen hunched over his laptop. He pressed a finger to his lips as Dean closed the door, shushing him. He could see Anna tucked under a blanket on the couch, and he stopped to stroke her bright red hair before moving to his brother.

“Quiet day?” he asked hopefully.

Sam shrugged. “Mostly. Cas got up a couple hours after you left, came in, opened the fridge, stared for a minute, then went back to bed. Anna managed to get some orange juice down him before he threw her out of the room. She's been on the couch ever since.”

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face. “Sorry for leaving this to you. I should have taken the day off.”

Sam shook his head. “No need to apologize. They're family.”

Dean tried to hide his smile by biting the inside of his cheek. “Could you do that online pizza order thing? I don't feel like cooking tonight.”

Sam just nodded and started typing. Dean pulled a debit card from his wallet and handed it to him, then made his way to the bedroom.

Cas was awake, still clutching the pillow to his chest.

“Hey, babe. How're you feeling?” He pushed the errant curls from Cas's forehead.

“Overwhelmed. Scared. Furious.”

“You wanna come talk to me while I shower?”

Cas didn't answer, but slowly lowered his legs to the floor and sat up. Dean turned the water as hot as he could stand it, and stripped, piling his dusty clothes on the floor. Cas settled on the counter, his feet swinging against the cabinet, helping Dean pull his t-shirt over his shoulders when he got stuck. Dean stepped under the spray and let the heat and pressure release the tension in his back.

“Have I ever told you how much demo sucks? I mean, you get the satisfaction of destroying shit, but after the first hour or so, your arms start to go numb and it stops being fun.”

Silence surrounded them. Dean rolled his shoulders and felt every knot he'd collected.

“I don't want to go to Spain,” Cas said quietly.

“Okay. So don't go to Spain.”

“But I have to.”

Dean grabbed the soap and tried desperately to come up with an answer. 

After a moment, Cas spoke up. “You're supposed to say 'no you don't' and have a cunning plan to get me out of this mess.”

Dean finished lathering with a sigh. “What do you want me to say, Cas? It's not my decision to make. If you think you have to go, go. It will suck, but I'll stand behind you. If you decide to tell Raph to go fuck himself, okay. I'm still with you.” He scrubbed his hair. “Have you thought about what Sam said? About getting your trust fund back?”

“That could take years, and then I would be fighting not just one brother, but two.”

“Is there anything Gabe or Luci could do?”

“Doubtful. Luci won't, as he wants me back in New York as much as the others do, and Gabe can't, as he has little to no authority over Raphael. The only thing he might be able to offer would be a trade, where I work for him for a time to alleviate my debt to Raph. I would be able to talk to you, but I would never see you.”

“Is that an option?” Dean rinsed his hair and turned off the taps.

“I doubt it. I could call him, but it's likely he won't want to get involved, not because he agrees with Raphael, but because he doesn't want to deal with him.”

Dean stepped out of the tub, dripping, and crowded between Cas's legs, his hands running up the length of Cas's thighs. “You know what I'm afraid of?” Cas refused to look at him and shook his head. “I'm afraid I'll be lost without you. I'm afraid you'll go over there and be amazing and wonder why you ever left that life. I'm scared you'll find a beautiful Spanish lover and forget about me. That's what I'm terrified of, Cas. That you'll go over there and figure out that you deserve better than what I can give you. I can deal with not seeing you, not touching you, even not talking to you. Losing you? That would destroy me.”

Cas looked up at him, and he continued. “I can't ask you to stay anymore than I can tell you to go.”

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's wet torso and pulled him close. Dean sighed into the hug and held on like his life depended on it. He only let go when he started shivering.

“I got you all wet.”

“That's all right.” Cas wrapped a towel around him, smoothing the soft terry cloth down Dean's skin. He slid off the counter and followed Dean into the bedroom. He stopped at the end of the bed and sat down. “I wouldn't,” he said, not looking at Dean.

“Wouldn't what?”

“Find a lover.”

Dean didn't say anything as he pulled clothes from the dresser.

“And I don't deserve better than you. I don't deserve _you_.”

“Cas . . .” Dean shook his head as he pulled on his clothes.

“You might be a high school dropout with six bucks in your pocket, but you get to deal with both our siblings for however long I'm gone. I'd say that makes us even.”

Dean gave him a soft smile as he stepped in from of him. “Fair point.” He crawled into Cas's lap, straddling his thighs. Cas hugged him close to his chest, clung to him. They sat there holding one another until the doorbell rang.

“Come on,” Dean pulled away. “Let's get something to eat and start figuring out what the hell we're going to do.”

Cas nodded and let Dean lead him to the kitchen. Anna and Sam were spreading pizza boxes down the counter and pulling slices onto their plates. Dean waited until they were all settled, then cleared his throat.

“I know you guys want to know what's going on,” he started, “what's going to happen from here.”

“I, um,” Cas spoke up. “I received a message from my secretary. My itinerary.” He laid his phone on the table in front of Dean.

“You have a secretary?”

“As of this morning, yes.”

Dean picked up the phone. “Flight from here to New York leaving Wednesday evening. Car to meet you at the gate and take you to the townhouse, then pick you up and take you to the office Thursday morning. That's awfully considerate of him.”

Cas took his phone back. “He just wants to make sure I actually show up. This is his way of keeping tabs on me.”

“What happens from there?” Sam asked.

Cas sighed and clasped his hands in his lap. “I'm guessing that I'll shadow Raphael and his CFO for a few days to become acquainted with the state of the company. I'm sure at some point I will have to learn more about the company I'm being sent to review. Maybe brush up on my Spanish with a dialect coach, though I'm confident in my skills. And when Raphael thinks I'm ready, I'll be sent to Spain. Specifically Seville, I believe.

“You speak Spanish?” Dean asked.

Cas looked up, unblinking. “I'm fluent in several languages.”

“Huh.” Dean hid his admiration with a small smile and a big bite of pizza.

“And then you're there how long?” Anna asked, ignoring the exchange.

“As long as it takes to make a thorough report. I can't risk doing this halfway.” Dean reached over and laced his fingers between Cas's. Cas gave him a soft smile and continued. “Then I'll return to New York to present my findings to the board.”

“Will you get to come home then?” Anna asked.

“I don't know. They could very easily send me back, for any number of reasons. I might not be able to return for a long time.”

“Let me see if I've got this straight,” Anna said as she pushed her plate away. “You're leaving in a week and a half for god knows how long. You,” she pointed at Sam, “are going back to California in a month, assuming you're all healed up. Which leaves you,” she pointed at Dean, “sitting here alone, working and/or drinking yourself to death until he gets back.”

Dean shrugged. “Sounds about right. You're welcome to stay, you know. I mean, I kinda thought you would.”

“Well someone's going to have to keep an eye on you.”

Dean caught the slight smile Cas flashed her. “If you think you're up to the challenge, little sister.”

“Any thought as to how you're going to stay in touch? I'm guessing normal means of communication are out?” Sam asked.

“Haven't really come up with a solution yet,” Dean answered. “Raph's tech geeks would trace anything electronic, so phone calls and video messaging are out. Same with email.”

“You could write letters,” Anna offered.

“Wherever I stay will be paid for by the company. I don't put it past Raphael to read my mail.”

“They have those private post box things all over the place. You rent a box from a shipping company. Get your own address and everything. Raph wouldn't have access to it, especially if he doesn't know you have one.”

“Secret pen pals?” Dean asked.

“Secret pen pals,” Anna nodded. “Plus, there's no way Raph could deny me staying in touch with my own brother. If you just happened to be in the background . . .”

“At least I could see you,” Cas said quietly.

“Think it will be enough?” Dean squeezed his hand.

“It will have to be.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Dean's temple. For once, Anna and Sam didn't complain.


	23. Chapter 23

“That's all you're taking?” Dean looked at the two suitcases, unconvinced. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest and stared down at his boyfriend, who was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor of their bedroom carefully folding his socks and underwear.

“That's every suit I own, plus space for at least two more that I'll purchase when I get to my tailor in the city.”

“You have a tailor.”

“I've been in bespoke suits since I was adopted, Dean.”

“Okay, but only two suitcases? You're going to be gone for a while.”

“I have no desire to ship my personal effects halfway around the world, not that I have that many to begin with.”

“Yeah, but . . . No pictures? No books? Music?”

“I have my music and pictures on my phone. Sam has assured me that there are several bookstores in the city, most within walking distance from my hotel.” Messages from his secretary had confirmed that he would be staying at the Hotel Sevilla for the duration of his stay. Cas was developing a deep fondness for the woman, knowing she had chosen for him, opting for a location that gave him more freedom despite the expense.

“Okay, but what about movies and stuff. Or, you know, toothpaste.”

“Dean, I'm going to Spain, not Mars. I'm fairly certain they have toothpaste there.” He tried not to get frustrated. He didn't want to spend his last day with Dean in a fight. He sighed and stood, throwing the last of his socks on top of his clothes before stepping into Dean's personal space. He tugged Dean's arms from across his chest and settled them on his own hips. “What's this really about?”

“Just want to make sure you have everything you need.”

“I know, and I appreciate the sentiment.”

Dean held him for a moment longer, then pushed away and kissed him on the cheek. “I'm gonna go make us some lunch while you finish up, okay?”

“Okay,” Cas nodded.

He stepped into the living room twenty minutes later to the sound of a heated discussion.

“It's not any of your fucking business, Sam, so just drop it.” Dean slammed the skillet onto the stove.

“What's going on?” Cas stood between them, Dean in the kitchen and Sam on the couch, casted leg propped on the coffee table.

“I'm trying to do something nice for you and Dean's overreacting as usual.”

“I said drop it,” Dean growled.

“What are you doing for us, Sam?”

“I just mentioned that Anna and I could, you know, find somewhere else to stay for the night. So that you could . . . You know . . .” He made a vague hand gesture.

“Have loud, raucous sex?” Cas asked.

“Well, yeah. I mean, last night together and all.” He scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “I thought I was doing you a favor.”

“Goddamn it Sam—“

“We don't have sex.”

The silence at Cas's declaration was overpowering.

“You, uh . . . But you've . . . Um . . .”

“He's ace, you asshole.”

“I . . . Wow . . . I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't . . .”

“No, you didn't because it's none of your damn business,” Dean said, fury barely contained.

Anna breezed in, completely ignoring the rising tension. “I'm going to game night with a few friends,” she announced to the room. “Cheap booze, role playing games, and wheelchair access. Any takers?”

“What system?” Sam asked.

“Pathfinder,” Anna answered. “Do you have any dice?”

“Back in California.”

“No worries. I have a spare set you can borrow. Mind if we take the car, Cas?”

Cas tossed her the keys and they left without another word. Dean took a deep breath as soon as they were gone, and Cas could see some of the tension fall from his shoulders. Cas settled himself at the table, and watched Dean while he waited.

When he was done, Dean set two bowls of tomato rice soup on the table next to a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches. Cas recognized the comfort food for what it was and didn't comment other than to thank him. They spoke quietly of nothing while they ate, Dean's hand resting on Cas's knee the whole time.

“Are you all packed?” Dean finally asked as he cleared the table.

“I believe so, except for my toiletries, of course.”

“What about a book for the plane, or a carry on?” Dean scrubbed the dishes a little harder than necessary.

“I won't need one until I leave New York.”

Dean nodded and handed him a plate to dry. “Any plans for tonight?”

“You mean other than the sex we're supposed to be having?”

Dean laughed softly. “Yeah, other than that.”

“I want to finish my book so you can take it back to the library for me.”

“Mind if I watch a movie?”

“Of course not. Mind if I sit with you?”

“Oh, I'm not letting you out of my sight for the next,” he glanced at his watch, “twenty-two hours and seventeen minutes. Excluding bathroom breaks.” His smile didn't reach his eyes.

“Fair enough. You finish up in here while I go grab my book and I'll meet you on the couch.” Cas pressed a kiss to his lips and felt Dean sigh against him.

Dean settled onto his side of the couch and flipped through the television menu. Cas sat with his back pressed to Dean's side, his book propped against his drawn-up knees. Dean snaked his arm around Cas's middle and idly rubbed his thumb over Cas's stomach.

“I think,” Dean started, then sighed.

“What?” He put his hand over Dean's.

“I think this is what I'll miss the most. Just this. Just _us_.”

Cas curled his fingers between Dean's and squeezed. “Me, too. This and watching your cock bounce between your legs when you walk to the bathroom every morning.” He smiled when he felt Dean's breathing hitch.

“Jesus, Cas.”

He shifted so he could watch the blush climb up Dean's cheeks. “It's rather impressive, really. I didn't know it was possible to have morning wood every single day. Especially at your age.” He didn't hide his smug little smile when the tips of Dean's ears turned red.

“Are you done?”

“Not even remotely.” He tilted his head back and kissed the side of Dean's mouth, earning him a smile. Dean pulled him into a kiss, and it wasn't perfect, and it was a little sloppy, but it was them.

“Asshole.”

“You love me.”

“Damn right I do.” Dean smiled and turned his attention back to the television. Cas hummed a happy sigh and settled back with his book.

“And it's not every day.”

“Okay,” Cas answered.

“Most days.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Twice on Sundays.”

“So it averages out, of course.”

“Exactly.” Dean kissed his temple and started a movie, his fingers kneading the muscle at Cas's waist.

Cas decided he would miss that the most, too.

He woke a while later with his head in Dean's lap. He had pulled Dean's hand to his chest at some point, his broad fingers fanned out above Cas's heart. The television played softly in the background. When he looked up, Dean was watching him.

“Hey,” he smiled down fondly.

“I didn't mean to fall asleep. How long have I been out?”

“About an hour. You missed most of _A Fistful of Dollars_.”

“Damn.”

“I can start it over if you want.”

“What time is it?”

“A little after two.”

“Are Sam and Anna home?”

“Yep. Anna said we looked very domestic, whatever that means, and Sam giggled. I guess they had a good time.”

“Mm.” Cas stretched, laying himself across Dean's lap and down the length of the couch. Dean rubbed his hand down the taut muscles and turned back to the movie.

“She meant we looked good together. Like a family.”

“Ah,” Dean nodded. He spoke again when the credits started to roll. “Hey, Cas?”

“Yes?”

“Would getting married change anything? With Raphael, I mean. Would you get to stay?”

Cas sat up and faced him. “I honestly don't know.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“Just thought it might be a solution.”

“Do you want to marry me?”

“Well, yeah,” Dean shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Even if I wasn't going to Spain?”

“Even if you weren't going to Spain, though it might have taken me longer to ask.”

“Oh.” He tried to collect his thoughts but his brain refused to cooperate.

“Do you want to marry me?”

“Of course. I just thought that, I mean . . . I can't give you what you need, so I just assumed . . .”

“What are you talking about? You're everything I could possibly want and more.”

“I'm not, though.”

“You are. I know what you're thinking and you can just stop. It's not about the sex we don't have. It's about you.”

“That's the sappiest proposal I've ever heard.” Anna shuffled to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and shuffled back out again. She paused before reaching the hall and turned back to them. “Just so you know, there's a three-day waiting period for a marriage license. Goodnight.”

Dean waited to hear her door click shut before speaking. “I guess that takes care of that idea.”

“I doubt it would have changed anything. I'd still have to do Raphael's bidding, with the added wrath at me being so blatant in my homosexuality.”

“You're not homosexual.”

“Semantics.”

They settled back on the couch and Dean flipped channels. “We could still do it, though. When you get back.”

Cas paused for a moment. “Okay,” he said slowly.

“Okay.” Dean kissed the top of his head and flipped to the Discovery channel.

When they went to bed an hour later, Dean curled around Cas and pulled him close, his chest to Cas's back, both arms wrapped tightly around him. He pressed soft chaste kisses into the curls behind Cas's ear, down his neck, at the top of his spine. Cas did his best to control his breathing, to swallow around the sob that was lodged in his throat.

“I love you, Castiel,” Dean whispered, his voice broken.

Cas gripped Dean's arms and let the tears roll down his face.


	24. Chapter 24

Dean rolled Cas's suitcases to the front door while Cas checked to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Anna offered one last time to drive him to the airport, and Cas gave her a soft smile when he again declined. She clung to him in a desperate hug and wiped her eyes when she backed away.

“Don't know why you're crying,” Cas laughed. “You can come see me any time you want to.”

“I know. It's just, this is so fucked up,” she sniffled.

“I know. Keep Skype open for me?”

She nodded, and he moved to shake Sam's hand. Sam pushed up out of his wheelchair and stood on his good leg to crush Cas into a hug.

“Take care, Cas.”

“I will, Sam. Thank you.” He clapped him on the back and helped him back into his chair.

“Got everything?” Dean asked when Cas looked up at him.

“I believe so.”

Dean nodded and opened the door. “Be back in a bit,” he called over his shoulder as he followed Cas out.

They were silent all the way to the airport, their hands clasped tightly between them. When he pulled into a parking space and shut off the car, Cas leaned into his space, his palm curved around Dean's jaw. The kiss was soft and slow, and Dean felt a deep ache grow in his chest.

“I love you,” he whispered when they broke apart.

“And I love you.” Cas smiled.

They climbed out of the car slowly, reluctantly. Dean followed him to baggage check, then pulled him into a quiet corner away from the main concourse.

“This is as far as I can go.” He brushed a curl off Cas's forehead.

“I'll send you my address as soon as I can.” He set his hands on Dean's hips.

“You better,” Dean smiled. He pulled Cas into a hug and held him tight. When he pushed back, his voice was weak. “Go. Don't want you to miss your flight.”

“I'm fairly certain they would hold the plane for me.”

“Yeah, but you don't want to add fuel to that fire. Go on. I'll see you soon.”

“Soon,” Cas nodded. 

“Bye, angel.” He watched Cas go through security and with one more small wave, walked away.

Twenty minutes and twelve miles later, he pulled into an empty parking lot and skidded to a stop. His stomach lurched and he practically fell out of the car. He braced himself against the fender and heaved until his stomach was empty. When he had nothing left, he wiped his face on the hem of his shirt and climbed back behind the wheel.

When he got home, he found Sam hunched over his laptop, typing furiously. “Where's Anna?”

“Bedroom.” He looked concerned but didn't elaborate.

Dean ducked into his room to change his shirt, then tapped on Anna's door. He knocked louder and called out to her when he got no response. He waited, ear pressed to the door, but got no answer.

“Anna? I'm coming in,” he said as warning before slowly pushing her door open.

“Go away.” She was balled under the covers, knees tucked tight to her chest.

“Can't do that, kiddo. Promised I'd take care of you.” He sat on the edge of her bed and laid a hand on her knee. The quiet surrounded them for several minutes before Anna scooted around to lay her head in Dean's lap. He raised his hand to her shoulder and rubbed what he hoped were comforting motions down her arm.

“You love my brother.”

“With everything I have.”

“I can't imagine what this is like for you. For him. And I can't believe it's our own brother doing it.” Dean didn't have an answer. She sat up abruptly, her face inches from his, fire in her eyes. “I hate him. I hate Raphael and what he's done to Castiel. How could he do this?”

Dean pulled her to his chest as she broke down in sobs. “I don't know, baby girl. But you can't waste energy on that, hating someone who doesn't give a shit. We'll get through this, but I need you to be strong, okay? For Cas and for me. You're my lifeline here, my only contact. I'm not saying don't be sad or don't cry. I'm just saying . . .”

“Rein it in?”

“Choose your moments.”

She nodded, resolve in her expression. “Can I borrow the car? I need to go buy a new computer.”

“Yeah, sure. Maybe take Sam with you? He's a nerd for that kind of thing.” He handed over Cas's keys and left her to get dressed. He flopped down on the couch and was considering a _Game of Thrones_ marathon when Anna yelled from the bathroom.

“Hey Winchester! Get dressed. We're going shopping.”

Sam looked over at him, confused.

“Yeah, pretty sure she means you, dude.” Dean laughed as his younger brother pushed away from the table.

“You going to be okay here by yourself?” Sam asked when he came back dressed a few minutes later.

“You're not gonna be gone that long, Sammy. Try not to let her spend too much.”

“I'll do my best,” he said, both of them knowing he had little control over that.

“Want anything while we're out?” Anna asked as she stepped into the room.

“Thanks, I'm good. Maybe get yourselves something to eat. I'm probably going to go to bed.” He gave them a weak smile.

“Sure, Dean. See you when we get back.” Anna kissed his cheek and opened the door for Sam.

He flipped channels for a few minutes before giving up and going to bed. He curled as far away from Cas's side of the bed as he could and dropped into an uneasy sleep.

He dreamed of blue, and searched for something he was missing, something he desperately needed but couldn't find. He woke shaking, covered in sweat.

…

He was awake when his alarm went off. He shut it off quickly as to not wake Cas, and the reality of Cas's absence hit him like a gut punch. He barely made it to the toilet before his stomach revolted. He sat on the cold tile and imagined Cas waking up in a strange room somewhere in New York City, over a thousand miles away.

He dressed slowly, almost carefully, and was surprised to find Anna at the kitchen table when he finally made it out of his room.

“Hey, look who's up!”

“What are you doing up so early?” he asked.

“Talking to my brother.”

Dean stumbled and caught himself against the counter. It had only been five days since he'd watched Cas disappear into the airport terminal, and the pain in his chest was almost unbearable.

“Awesome. Tell him I said hi. Did you make coffee?”

“Yeah, should be some left in the pot.” She turned back to her laptop. “Dean says hi.”

“Hello.” Cas's voice filtered out of the speakers. “I apologize for making this call so brief. Raphael expects me in the office in fifteen minutes and it's a twenty-minute cab ride.”

“It's a shame you don't know the city better, Cassie. Raph might get mad if you continue this habit of tardiness.” Dean could hear the tease in her voice, and he smile to himself. Cas wouldn't risk an overt gesture, but he would antagonize Raphael in small, seemingly innocent ways.

“It seems I've grown accustomed to the quiet of the midwest. The hustle and bustle of the city disorients me.” Dean knew without looking that a small smile was tugging at the corner of Cas's mouth. “I will speak to you this evening, if you're available.”

“I'll be here,” Anna answered.

“See you then. And good luck with your interview. Have a good day, Dean.”

Dean turned to see the laptop angled toward him. He gave Cas a smile and a small wave. “Thanks, Cas. You too.”

“Thank you. Goodbye Anna.”

The screen went black as he ended the call and Dean gave up any pretense of having full control of his limbs. He dropped his coffee cup into the sink and ignored the shatter of the ceramic.

“You did good,” Anna said from her place at the table.

“Did you two plan that, or do you have a real reason for being up at the asscrack of dawn?”

“Both, actually. He asked me to call him this morning and I have a job interview.”

Dean grabbed a new cup from the cupboard. “Oh yeah? Where?”

“One of Gabe's firms. Administrative assistant for one of the low level VPs.”

“Huh. Good luck.” He grabbed the coffee carafe and walked to the table.

“Aren't you going to ask why?”

He refilled her mug, then his own, and set the carafe between them. “Why what?”

“Why I'm getting a job.”

He sat across from her. “Wasn't planning on it. I figured it's because you want to.”

Anna sat back in her seat. “You're honestly not going to ask the girl with the eight-figure trust fund who has never worked a day in her life why she's suddenly interested in joining the rat race.”

“What you do with your time and your money isn't any of my business, to a point. You pull that partying for three days shit again, we'll have problems. But if you want to work, I think that's great. You want to sit on your ass watching _Days of Our Lives_ and eating Twinkies, go ahead. All I ask is that you share with Sammy.” He smiled and took a sip of coffee.

She studied him for several minutes, her brow wrinkling in thought. He calmly sipped his coffee and watched the emotion play across her face.

“You really don't care,” she finally said.

“Oh, I care, but only in the 'I'm taking care of you while Cas is gone' kind of way, not the passing judgment kind of way. If it makes you happy, then go for it.”

“You're kind of awesome, Dean Winchester.”

“You ain't so bad yourself, kiddo. You need a ride to the interview?”

“Can I take the car?”

“Sure. Keys are on the counter. I'm thinking tacos for dinner. Is that okay with you?”

“Do we have sour cream?”

“If we don't, can you grab some? And see if Sam has any special requests.” He got up and rinsed his cup. “I'll be home by six. Dinner should be ready by seven.”

“Sounds great. See you later.”

He dropped a kiss in her hair and headed out the door.

A few minutes later, he was in the cab of Benny's truck, barreling down the road. “You're shitting me.”

“'Fraid not. Bosses are coming down hard, trying to get this contract.”

“So I'm on demo duty for the foreseeable future.”

“Looks like.”

“I've got bills, Benny.”

“We all got bills, Dean. You stick it out, you'll be back on the regular crew in a few weeks, two months tops. Let them get past this corporate bull and you're golden.”

“This have anything to do with all the time I spent in California?”

Benny kept his eyes trained on the road ahead, his silence giving Dean the answer he needed. He sighed and turned to stare out the window for the rest of the drive. Half days at time and a half didn't quite add up to full days at regular pay. He wouldn't ask Anna or Sam to pitch in, but without Cas's contribution, money was going to be tight. He was thinking about asking for more shifts at the Roadhouse when they pulled up to the job site.

“Thanks for the heads-up, Benny,” he said as he stepped from the truck. He'd figure it out. His thoughts strayed to Cas as he headed toward the foreman for his assignment. For Cas, he'd figure it out.


	25. Chapter 25

“Nice of you to join us, Castiel.” Raphael gestured to an empty chair halfway down the long conference table. “We were discussing integration of mobile technologies across the board – apps, email, mobile sites, social media. Do you have any thoughts?”

All eyes turned to Cas and he didn't bother looking embarrassed, as was Raphael's intent. “I believe it would be worth the initial cost to bring everyone to standard. More than fifty percent of business is conducted on a mobile device. I think our clients can only benefit from it.”

Raphael glared at him, but Cas ignored him to accept a cup of coffee from his secretary with a sincere “thank you.”

“Anyone else have any thoughts before we move on?”

“I think Castiel makes an excellent point. The shareholders can be convinced that it will benefit them in the long run. I'll have my team start working on the numbers for the cost of implementation.” Ezekiel, the COO and one of Cas's many second cousins, smiled at him across the table.

“Noted, thank you. Moving on.”

Cas paid little attention during the meeting, his notes becoming pieces of love letters, a string of random thoughts he wanted to share with Dean. His mind drifted, wondering what Dean was doing, how Sam was feeling, what kind of trouble Anna was getting into. He hid a smile by taking a sip of coffee, remembering the sight of Dean stumbling into the kitchen that morning, obviously surprised and trying hard to not show it.

“Thank you for your time, ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Bailey, I expect that report on my desk no later than end of business tomorrow. Mr. Novak, if I could see you in my office.”

“Which one?” Cas asked without looking up. When he didn't get an answer, he looked up to catch Ezekiel's amused smirk and Raphael's glare. “Which Mr. Novak?”

“You know very well which one, Castiel.”

“Of course.” Cas casually gathered his things and stopped long enough to refill his coffee before heading down the hall to see his big brother. The secretary waved him through and he took a seat, waiting for Raph to finish a phone call. He hung up without a goodbye and turned his scowl to Cas.

“Do not do that again.”

“To what specifically are you referring?” Cas gave him his most innocent look.

“Your behavior in that meeting was offensive.”

“I spoke once, when directly addressed. How was that offensive? Who did I offend?”

“Me, Castiel. If you disagree with me, you bring it to me directly. You do not voice your opinion in front of the staff.”

“I was unaware I was disagreeing with you, as I was not here to learn your stance on the subject.”

“Then you keep your mouth shut.”

“You're angry because I embarrassed you.”

“Of course not.”

“In that case, please accept my apology. I will not offer any opinions unless I have previously discussed them with you. May I go?” He stood and turned to the door.

“Sit down, Castiel.” Raphael practically spit his name.

Cas resumed his seat and stared at his brother. He was approaching the line but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He couldn't help resenting Raphael for what he was doing to him.

“You leave for Spain in two days. I expect you to be familiar with the area and the venture before you step off the plane. If you are called to a meeting, you will keep your opinions to yourself. While in Seville, you will report to me directly, weekly, as well as joining the monthly board meetings. When I feel we know enough to make a sound decision, you will come home.”

“Yes, Raphael.” He stood and left the office, making sure to keep his posture loose while his stomach tied itself into knots.

When his secretary peeked into his office several hours later, he was hunched in front of his computer.

“Mr. Novak?”

He straightened immediately. “Yes, Angela?”

“I'm taking my lunch break now, sir.”

“That's fine.” He gave her a small smile and turned back to his work.

“Would you like me to pick you up anything?”

He looked up, surprised. “You wouldn't mind?”

“Of course not.” She smiled and handed him a menu. “My cousin's bistro. Family discount, and I get to see my cousins for a few minutes.”

“You have a large family?” he asked as he looked down the menu.

“There's only me and my two brothers, but we have lots of cousins.”

“That's wonderful. I'll take the house specialty, and give your cousin my regards.” He pulled a bill from his wallet and handed it to her.

“Thank you, Mr. Novak.”

“Castiel.”

She stopped with her hand on the doorknob and smiled. “Thank you, Castiel.”

“You are welcome, Angela.”

After lunch, he asked her to hold his calls and messages until the end of the day. He lost track of time until she broke his concentration with a knock on the door.

“Mr. Novak – Castiel?”

“Yes?”

“Here are your messages.” She handed him several slips of paper. “I've forwarded your line to the answering service, so the phone shouldn't disturb you.”

“Thank you. Are you headed home?”

“Yes, sir. See you in the morning.”

“Before you go,” he started, “do you know what your position will be once I leave for Spain?”

“I assume I'll get transferred back to accounting,” she said with a shrug.

“I would like to put in a request to retain you as my secretary. I will need someone here to keep track of things for me, help keep me organized. Would that be acceptable to you?”

“Oh, wow. Yes. Thank you, sir.”

Cas smiled. “Good. I will email Raphael and contact HR before I leave today. Thank you.”

“Have a good night, sir.”

“You as well. See you tomorrow.”

When he finally made it to the townhouse, his first priority was opening his laptop and launching Skype. The icon next to Anna's name was gray, and he did his best to swallow his disappointment as he began to undress. A ping alerted him to an incoming call just as he pulled a t-shirt over his head. He clicked the button and smiled as the video of his sister came up. “Anna.”

“Hey, Cas. How are you?” She winked at him and angled the camera toward the kitchen where Dean stood at the sink.

“Tired. How are you? How did the interview go?”

“Fairly well, I think, considering I have zero qualifications except for my sparkling personality and my last name.”

“That's what entry level is for, Anna. You'll be fine. How is everyone there?”

“Sam has a doctor's appointment next week to get the casts off, and then he'll start physical therapy. He decided to stay here for that.”

“Good. I'm sure his brother appreciates him staying close for his recovery.” Dean glanced toward the camera for an instant and Cas felt his heart thump.

“So, what's going on with you? How's work?”

“It's . . . interesting,” he said, still unsure if his brother would stoop to listening in on their calls. “I leave for Spain day after tomorrow. I'll email you the itinerary.”

“That's sooner than we thought,” she said, a note of concern in her voice.

Cas shrugged. “Might as well get started so I can get it over with and come home.”

Anna nodded. “We miss you.”

“I miss you as well. I'll speak to you again in a few days.” He spoke directly to Dean, who answered with a tiny nod.

“Safe travels, Castiel.”

“Thank you, Anna. Goodnight.”

“Bye.”

He watched Dean mouth “love you” without looking at the camera. His heart swelled in his chest as he shut down the computer and got ready for bed.

_Dean,_   
_I am several thousand feet over the Atlantic. There is an infant crying a few rows behind me. The old man sitting next to me is snoring. I'm supposed to be reading business reports and all I can think about is the way you say my name in your sleep._   
_Seville is hot and beautiful. You would be sunburnt within minutes. I miss your freckles. I stopped for ice cream at a little stand and the girl had green eyes. I tipped her a few extra euros and she called me a silly American when I turned away._   
_My room is small but nice. The manager has offered me use of the kitchens, but I plan to eat out as often as possible. Will you still love me if I gain weight? I've decided to start running again to hold that off as long as I can._   
_My new address is below. I love you. ~C_

_Cas,_   
_I have no idea how I sound when I say your name in my sleep. Describe it to me._   
_I've been working demo out in the heat for the past week. At this point, my freckles have freckles._   
_Of course I will still love you if you gain weight. The ice cream girl was right: you are a silly American._   
_Sam goes to the doctor on Tuesday. He's decided to transfer care from California to here, says he doesn't want to be alone for physical therapy. I think he's staying because of me and as much as I appreciate it, it makes me feel like a selfish bastard. I've had to pick up a few extra shifts at the Roadhouse, so I won't even be here if he needs me._   
_In case you didn't already know, you're dating an asshole._   
_I love you to the moon and back. ~D_

_Dean,_   
_You whisper it, like a prayer, full of love and hope and longing. It makes me feel like the safest place in the world is in your arms._   
_Why are you working demo? Why did you take extra shifts at the bar?_   
_I've only been here two weeks and I've gained five pounds. By the time I work up to my old running pace, I'll be up another ten. I haven't been this out of shape in decades._   
_I'm glad Sam is staying. You need each other. You're neither a selfish bastard nor an asshole. You are blessedly human._   
_The branch manager of the firm I'm investigating, Hannah, hates me. Everyone else is lovely. They take me out to lunch and tease me about my pronunciation._   
_You are my everything. ~C_

_Hey. Sorry this is a few days late. Working two jobs is a pain in the ass._   
_I'm working demo because it's either that or get a pink slip. The bosses are cutting hours and dropping crew so they can lowball a contract bid. Things should be back to normal soon. Until then, I take the half-days I can get and work every shift Ellen will give me. I've got a little saved up, too, just in case._   
_I'm going to have to see evidence of this extra fifteen pounds. For science._   
_Sam got his casts off. Everything healed like it was supposed to. Now he just has to learn how to use his limbs again. His therapist is tiny – at least a foot shorter than he is, maybe 110 pounds soaking wet, and she can manhandle him like a pro wrestler. It's hilarious to watch, which I am no longer allowed to do because apparently cheering, taunting, and throwing popcorn is considered rude._   
_I'm glad you're making friends._   
_Anna got the job._   
_I miss you._

Cas read Dean's letter in the time it took to walk back to the hotel. He read it again in the privacy of his room while his laptop booted and Skype connected. Anna answered immediately, hiding a yawn behind her coffee mug.

“Hey Cassie.”

“What time is it there?”

“Early.”

“Why are you up early on a weekend?”

“Because someone has to be up to help Sam with his PT when the therapist gets here, and Dean just got in a few hours ago.”

Cas paused and carefully schooled his features to not show his emotion. Anna saw right through it, but Cas hoped Raph's tech guru wouldn't.

“He's been working at the bar as often as he can get a shift. He's dead on his feet,” she continued.

“Why? Why is he working so much?”

Anna shrugged. “You know he won't tell me much. I think he's worried about keeping up with the bills now that they've cut his hours. I offered to help but he refused.”

Cas sighed. “Any news about the job interview?”

“I start Monday,” she said with a smile. “Sam and Dean are taking me shopping later to help me choose appropriate business attire.”

Cas laughed. “Because obviously they know more about that than you do.”

“Absolutely. But also because I want them to get out of the apartment and they want to make sure I don't spend too much.” She shrugged. “We might accidentally stroll past the movie theater just as that new action movie is about to start, and then it will probably be too late to cook, so we'll have to stop at that little diner with the great apple pie on the way back.”

“Anna . . .” He poured as much fondness into her name as he could.

She laughed. “What? Gotta take care of my boys. Speaking of, Sam's therapist will be here in a few minutes. I need to wake him up, and I promised to have coffee ready.”

“Oh. Of course. I will speak to you soon. And congratulations on the job.”

“Thank you, Cassie. See you soon.”

He shut the laptop with a sigh. He stared out the window at the bright afternoon sky and watched the heat shimmer on the rooftops below him. He read Dean's letter one more time before he picked up his phone and dialed a familiar number.

“Castiel Novak calling for Angela Mason.”


	26. Chapter 26

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face and squinted at the clock. He'd been home just under five hours, and asleep for just over four. Or, as close to asleep as you can count passing out for a solid hour before the nightmares started. He groaned and sat up, turning an ear to the soft voices that filtered in from the living room. Shit. He'd forgotten about Sam's therapy. He pulled a pair of sweatpants over his boxers, tugged on a t-shirt, and stepped out of the room.

“You did great, Sam. See you tomorrow.” She was out the door before he made it to the living room.

“Morning,” Anna called as she helped Sam settle on the couch.

“Hey. Sammy, I'm sorry. I forgot to set the alarm when I got in last night.”

“It's okay.” Sam smiled up at him. “Coffee's fresh if you want some.”

“Thank you. And I really am sorry. I'll set the alarm for tomorrow before I leave for work.”

“You don't work tonight,” Anna said.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Nope. You promised to take me shopping.”

“I did? That doesn't sound like me at all.”

“Pretty sure you did, dude. The day she got the job. 'We'll have to take you out and get you something pretty.'”

“Well, yeah, but I didn't mean today.” He looked up in time to see Anna's expression fall and Sam shoot him a look. “All right, fine. Bullies. I'll call Ellen.”

Anna grinned. “You help Sam with his shower and I'll fix us a quick bite to eat. We'll leave in an hour. Sound good?”

“Works for me. If you don't mind, I'll go grab my stuff,” Sam said, more of a question than a statement.

“Yeah, sure. Be there in a sec.” He pulled a mug from the cabinet and picked up the coffee pot, careful to keep his back to Anna. “So, you heard from Cas?”

“He called this morning, just before Ruby got here.”

“Yeah?”

“He looked good. Tan. I guess because he's been walking everywhere. He asked about the job and thought it was great that you're going with me today. He asked why you're working so much.” 

“What'd you tell him?”

“That I didn't know for sure but that I thought it was because you're worried since they cut your hours, and that you refused my help.”

He let out a groan and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dammit, Anna.”

“What? He asked. I answered. I'm not going to lie to my brother.”

“I'm not asking you to lie, but do you have to tell him everything?”

“What's the big deal? He was worried about you.”

“ _That's_ the big deal. Now he's five thousand miles away, worried about a situation he can't do anything about. I could've handled it without him ever knowing. Jesus.” He poured the rest of his coffee down the drain and went to help Sam.

With the casts gone, Sam could stand on his own, but the weakness in his leg and the slippery tub made him uneasy. Dean helped him in, then held him up with a steady grip.

“She's just trying to help, you know.” Sam didn't look at his brother as he scrubbed his hair.

“I know, but he's got enough on his plate without wondering if I can take care of this place on my own.”

“I doubt that's what he's thinking.”

“Yeah? How would you know?” Dean bit his lip as soon as he said it. “Sorry.”

“Look.” He started lathering. “I haven't known him very long, but I know you. You work too hard. You're stubborn. You let your pride get in the way when people try to help. You won't take money from Anna because Cas left her in your care. You won't take money from me because I'm your little brother and you've been out to prove that you can take care of me since you were four years old. The only reason you let Ellen help is because you work your ass off for your pay, and even then you take on more than you're responsible for. Fuck, Dean.”

Dean refused to look at his brother, and the silence stretched between them. When Sam stepped out of the spray, he asked, “You done?”

“Yeah, I'm done,” Sam said with a sigh.

Dean waited for him to turn off the tap, then helped him step out of the tub. He handed Sam a towel as soon as he was steady on his feet, and left without another word.

He was laying across the bed, fists pressed into his eyes, when Anna knocked on the door.

“Yeah?”

She stuck her head in and asked, “Are you ready to go?”

He didn't move. “I don't think that's a very good idea right now, no.”

She stepped further into the room. “Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't think—“

“No, you didn't,” he said as he sat up. “Because you've never had to think like that before. I really haven't either, to be perfectly honest, but now I do. I have to think about him, and his feelings, and see things from his perspective. If I was in his shoes, would I want to know? Yeah, probably, but it would kill me knowing there was nothing I could do about it. I know Sam thinks I'm prideful and stubborn, and he's not wrong, but I'm also trying to take care of the people I love, trying to protect them. If that means not telling Castiel that I can't make rent, that's the choice I have to make.”

He watched a tear slide down her cheek, watched her bite her lip to contain a sob. He forced his voice to stay soft and even.

“I'm not mad at you, and I'm sorry for being an asshole. If I could talk to him, we could come up with a solution together. But I can't. I have to figure this out on my own and hope I don't fuck it up.” He sighed. “You and Sam go have fun, get out of the house for a while.”

“You won't come with us?”

“No. I think I'll get a couple meals put together for next week. Y'all go on. Try not to spend too much.” He gave her a weak smile.

“Are you working tonight?”

“Have to,” he shrugged.

She nodded and gave him a soft smile. “We will be back in a bit. Do you mind if we take the car?”

“Go ahead. Just fill it up, please.”

“Will do.” She backed out of the room. He could hear her speaking to Sam, but didn't chance leaving the room until he heard the front door click shut.

He hadn't planned on cooking, didn't have all the ingredients he wanted, but he couldn't get out of it after what he'd said. He was staring at the contents of the freezer when he heard a small gasp behind him.

Anna's laptop was sitting on the kitchen table, open. On the screen was a very surprised Castiel.

“Um. Hi.”

“Dean. Anna must have left the call open. I apologize—”

“It's okay, Cas. I was surprised is all. How's Spain?”

“Warm. How's Kansas?”

“Flat.” Dean caught the quirk of a smile before Cas could hide it.

“I thought you would be out. Anna mentioned something about shopping.”

“I decided to stay home. Get some meals prepared before I have to go to work.”

“At the bar?”

“Yep.” Dean begged, pleaded with his eyes for Cas to drop it.

“What are you preparing?” Cas asked, not missing a beat.

“Well, don't have any tomatoes for lasagna and no chicken for tetrazzini. I'm thinking beef stew.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Dean nodded and started pulling ingredients from the pantry.

“I miss your cooking.”

“Yeah?” Dean peeked at the screen.

“Yes. The food here is amazing, but I find myself craving something simpler.”

“You just have to go find the right spots. Get away from the tourist traps. Go where the locals go.”

“That's hard to do when most of the 'locals' live well outside the city.”

Dean nodded. “They take the train in, right?”

“I assume.”

“So take the train. Find a village and tell them you're lost and hungry. You speak the language, right?”

“Perfectly.”

“Break it up a little. I'm not saying play stupid, but innocent, maybe?”

“You're asking me to lie.”

“I'm asking you to have a little fun.”

Cas hummed a response as Dean started rinsing potatoes.

“How's the job going so far?” Dean turned off the faucet and dried his hands.

“As well as can be expected. Most of the people are nice enough. They take me out to lunch occasionally. The head of the firm is a different story.”

“They got a crush on you or something?” Dean smirked when he looked up.

“Possibly. Either that or she just genuinely dislikes me.”

“Is that going to be a problem? For your report or whatever?” He pulled out a cutting board and began chopping vegetables.

“No,” Cas said, leaning back in his chair. “To this point she's been accommodating. She's not unprofessional. She's simply curt. Abrupt.”

“Maybe she's intimidated. I mean, she has to know why you're there and what that means for the company and for her position.”

“I hadn't considered that. This must be incredibly difficult for her.”

Dean filled a stock pot with water and set it on the stove. He dumped in the chopped vegetables and moved on to brown the meat. “Sometimes you just need a different perspective.”

“Indeed. Thank you, Dean.”

“Anytime, Cas.”

They settled into companionable silence, Dean moving around the kitchen while Cas made notes to himself.

“Anna mentioned that Sam has started physical therapy,” Cas said after several minutes.

“Yeah, the day after he got the casts off, so about a week now. Little over a week, maybe. It's hard to keep track of days.”

“I can imagine, what with how much you're working.” Dean gave him a sharp look. “How is the therapy going? Do they anticipate any long-term effects?”

“Not so far. Right now his muscles are so weak, it's hard to tell what's just atrophied and what's not working. At least that's what the doctor said. His ribs healed fine, so he's able to get around on crutches. They looked at the hip that dislocated and said he wouldn't need surgery, that it shouldn't pop back out or anything. Other than that, it's just getting the muscles used to working again.”

“And he decided to stay?”

Dean nodded. “Through his PT, yeah. Could be another six weeks, could be three months.”

“I'm glad he's healing. And that he has you and Anna there to support him.”

“She's doing so good, Cas. No partying, no staying out late. She's been dragging Sam along to game night with a big group of friends. I think they're making it a regular thing. And now the job. I think this whole situation has really opened her eyes, made her grow up a little.”

“If there is a silver lining,” Cas sighed.

Dean huffed a laugh as he stirred the stew.

“You have to work tonight?”

“Yup,” Dean nodded. “I was hoping I could finish this up fast enough to catch a nap before I have to leave.”

“How is that going?”

“Pretty good. The bartender stopped slinging liquor all over the damn place when Ellen told him the cost of the new television was coming out of his pay. She told me that if I would consider moving to five days a week, she'd bump me to assistant manager and pay me a regular salary, not just a percentage of the bar sales like she's been doing.” Dean kept his back to Cas as he spoke.

“Are you considering her offer?”

Dean shrugged and transferred the contents of the skillet to the stock pot. “I was working five nights before, so it wouldn't be anything new. I'd still have to haul heavy shit and bust up fights, but also close down the bar and make sure the liquor order gets sent out and shit.”

He didn't turn around to see Cas's reaction. He gave the stew one final stir and turned the burner down.

“So,” he finally faced Cas. “It must be getting pretty late for you.”

“Not terribly, though I should go find something for dinner.”

“Well, don't let me keep you. I'm going to try to crash for a few hours. It was good talking to you, though.”

“You as well. Thank you again for taking care of my sister. I am in your debt.”

“That's what friends do, Cas. Take care of each other.”

“Have a good night, Dean.”

“You too, Cas. Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Of course,” Cas smiled. “Goodbye.”

“Bye.” Dean clicked out of the call. “I love you.”

He made his way to the bedroom and set his alarm before climbing into bed, Cas's pillow clutched to his chest. He dreamed of the deep rumble of far-off thunder.


	27. Chapter 27

_I'm watching you cook right now. You're moving around the kitchen, stirring and scooping and chopping and all I can think about are the freckles between your shoulder blades and the way you sigh in your sleep when I kiss them._   
_I think we're having a fight, but I'm not sure._   
_I don't want you to take Ellen's offer. I understand why you think you have to. I'm asking you to trust me, to trust that I have a solution. That you don't have to figure it out alone._   
_I took your advice. I jumped on the train Sunday morning and got off in a little town not far from the city. I wandered around looking at the shops and talking to the street vendors. The people were so kind. I asked a group of students, probably younger than Anna, where I should go to eat lunch. They said they knew a wonderful place just a few streets over and offered to take me. Instead of a restaurant, it was one of their homes. I tried to apologize to the boy's mother for intruding but she just laughed and told her son to add another chair to the table. The food was amazing – bright and fresh and simple. She wouldn't let me pay her, but made me promise to help her son with his English. He goes to university in the city, and we have plans to meet Tuesday after his last class._   
_Thank you, Dean. Thank you for convincing me to take a chance. ~C_

_That's what you were writing? I figured it was work stuff. And I'm not always asleep._   
_We're not having a fight. I wish Anna had kept her mouth shut so you wouldn't worry. Last thing you need is more shit to worry about._   
_I do trust you. I wish I could talk to you, figure this out with you, but I can't so I made the decision I had to make. I can't pay the bills on half-day pay and I can't trust that shit like this won't happen again. Before it wasn't that big of a deal, but now, taking care of Sam and Anna . . . Ellen's offer is starting to look pretty tempting. I can't do demo for the rest of my life. So if you have a solution, I'm all ears._   
_I'm glad you got out of the city and had a little adventure. And I'm glad you're getting a chance to teach while you're there, even if it's only one student._   
_I miss the way your hands look on my skin, your long thin fingers splayed out across my belly or pressed against my heart when we're in bed, right before you fall asleep._

_Dean,_   
_I was supposed to be working, but you're very distracting. Especially when you shake your hips like you're dancing to a song only you can hear._   
_Please don't blame my sister. I asked. I was already worried. She simply offered clarification. I wish you had let me know that you were concerned about money. I might have been able to set my plan into motion much sooner._   
_I have asked my secretary to help me with some creative accounting. Nothing illegal, I assure you, but it would be best if Raphael didn't find out. With Angela's help, I have been able to make sure that a majority of my monthly salary is paid directly to you. Before you protest: I have very little use for the money while I'm here. Most of my expenses are billed to the company. I would like you to use the money to maintain the household. Spend it how you see fit.  
      If things go well with Pablo, I may find myself tutoring his friends as well. They seemed rather excited to learn that I speak several languages._

Cas looked up from the letter when his phone started ringing.

“Cas Novak.”

“Hello, Castiel.”

“Raphael.”

“I have not received a report from you for last week.”

“There is nothing new to report. I am waiting for the quarterly earnings report and have been told that the earliest it will be available is tomorrow. As soon as I have reviewed it, I will make my report.”

“What do you expect to find?”

“I honestly do not know, as I have not yet been here a full quarter. I am told earnings should be average, but I have nothing to compare that to other than previous earnings reports, with which I am sure you are familiar.”

“Can they not give you any indication as to which companies are likely to continue their contract? What are their methods for obtaining new contracts?”

Cas scratched notes to himself and tried not to sigh. “I submitted that information in my first report, but I would be happy to revisit the subject if you require it.”

“Watch your tone, brother. Let me know what you find in the earnings report as soon as possible.”

“Of course.” He heard the click as the line went dead. He somehow resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room and returned to his letter.

      _I've just had a call from my brother. I wish I could curl against you, press my ear to your chest, listen to your heartbeat._

**Two months later**

_Finally got Sam situated in San Francisco. He hates that he has to use a cane, so Anna and I got him a badass one, black lacquered with a silver head. He said it will make him look prestigious in court. I signed your name to the card, too. Anna will send you pictures. The firm put him to work as soon as he got there. You can't imagine how happy he is._   
_Anna got a raise. It's not much but she's ecstatic. Michael still calls every week to check up on her (and me, I'm guessing). When she's not working, she's at game night or out to dinner with people from her office. I think she's been on a few dates, but she hasn't said anything outright so I'm not pushing. I'm just glad she's happy._   
_I passed a classic car show today. All I could think about is how awesome it would be if I could get my baby fixed up, and I could take you to all the places I've always wanted to see. Just you and me and the road._   
_The apartment is quiet. With Sam gone and Anna working and you . . . But you don't want to hear me bitch and moan. I'll talk to you soon. Love you, angel._

**Three months later**

_Happy birthday, Dean. I wish I could be there to see you open your gift, but Anna assures me she will record it. I miss you every day, but today especially. I love you._

_How the hell did you find an original pressing of Led Zeppelin II in such good condition? Thank you so much. Sam and Anna pooled their money and found an amazing vintage turntable, fully restored. It's a thing of beauty. But you probably already knew about it. I can't wait to play this for you when you get home._

**Six months later**

Cas was laying across his bed, propped against the headboard, book in his lap. The french doors that led to his small balcony were open, letting in the warm night air. It was only when his email alert sounded that he realized how late it was. The email from his sister simply asked “You still awake?” He answered in the affirmative, and immediately got a call on Skype.

On screen, Sam, Dean, and Anna could only be seen by the light of a dozen birthday candles. Anna tilted the cake so he could read the greeting iced on top: “Happy Birthday Castiel” scrawled above a drawing of an angel, complete with fluffy white wings and golden halo. Anna grinned at him and he couldn't help but laugh.

They sang “Happy birthday to you,” then all three blew out his candles for him.

“Do I still get the wish if you blow out my candles?”

“Absolutely,” Sam said. Cas could barely make out his grin in the glow of the computer screen. Anna disappeared off screen with the cake and seconds later, the lights came on.

“Thank you all so much. It's wonderful to see you. How are things at the firm, Sam?”

“Pretty good. Won my first case a few weeks ago.”

“Congratulations!”

“Thanks. I decided it was a perfect time to take a little vacation and come see my big brother.”

“How was your day?” Anna cut in.

“Boring,” Cas said with a soft smile.

“Did they not celebrate with you? No awkward office singing?”

“I don't think anyone knew, to be honest. And they don't really celebrate that kind of thing. Just not that kind of office, I guess.” He shrugged it off. “Besides, I'd much rather celebrate with you three.”

He looked at Dean as he said it. He watched the emotions flicker across his face before he settled into a shy smile. They didn't see each other often, other than when Dean was in the background during one of Anna's calls, or on the rare occasion she “forgot” to hang up a call. They sent letters once a week, but the separation was beginning to take its toll.

“But you don't want to hear about my boring job. Tell me about you. Tell me everything.”

“I got a promotion,” Anna said.

“That's fantastic. What is your new position?”

“Executive assistant to the VP of Sales.”

“I didn't know that,” Dean looked at her.

“That's because we're never here at the same time, or you're asleep. Besides, I just found out a week ago.”

“Well congrats, kiddo.” He pulled her into a hug.

“How's the bar?” Cas tried and failed to keep the edge out of his voice.

“You don't give a shit about the bar.”

“Dean,” Anna and Sam said in unison.

He looked at them and sighed. “The bar is fine, Cas. Thanks for asking.”

“You're welcome.” It was an ongoing argument. Dean had taken Ellen's offer despite the tens of thousands of dollars that hit his bank account every month. Anna assured him that the bills were being paid out of the account, but Dean insisted on keeping both jobs.

“How's Pablo?”

“And you're done,” Anna cut him off before Cas could react. “Excuse us, Cassie. I'm going to mute for a second.”

She clicked something on her computer and turned the camera so that all he could see was Sam's shoulder and the front door.

She did not, however, mute the call.

“It's his fucking birthday, Dean. Can't you keep your shit together for one fucking day?”

“Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?”

“I'm his sister, and your friend. Or so I thought.”

The room went quiet. Cas slowly released the breath he didn't remember holding. There had been accusation in Dean's tone, something Cas had never heard before.

“What's going on, man?” Sam asked softly.

“I don't know, all right!” Dean yelled, then softly said, “I don't know.”

“Well you'd better figure it out,” Anna said.

Cas heard a chair push away from the table and footsteps fade into the distance. The camera turned back to Anna and Sam.

“Shit. I hit the wrong button. You heard all of that.”

Cas couldn't speak. He could only nod.

“Dammit. Cas, I'm sorry.” Cas heard footsteps approaching, and she looked past the screen.

“I'll be back,” Dean said, off camera.

“You're going out now?” Sam asked.

“Gotta check a few things at the bar. Won't be long.”

“But,” Anna gestured at the screen.

Dean came around the table so he was barely in view. “See you later, Cas. Happy birthday.” And then he was gone.

Cas felt a tear fall down his cheek, and he jumped when the door slammed shut.

“Oh Cassie. I'm so sorry.”

“What the hell's gotten into him?” Sam asked.

“I don't know. He's working crazy hours, gone before dawn most days. He doesn't get home until three or four in the morning, if he comes home at all.”

Cas felt his heart clench.

“Do you think it's drinking? Or drugs?” Sam asked, then paused. “You don't think he's . . .” He glanced at Cas.

“No,” Anna answered, her expression firm. “He wouldn't.”

Cas cleared his throat. “Thank you for the surprise and the cake. It looked lovely. I think I'm going to turn in.”

“Cas—”

“Goodnight, Anna. It was good to see you, Sam. I hope we can speak again before you return to California.” He ended the call before either of them had a chance to speak.

He pulled Dean's most recent letter out of its hiding place.

_You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Cas. I swear, if it wouldn't embarrass the hell out of her, I'd thank Anna every day for breaking into my apartment. Can't wait until you come home to me, babe._

He picked up a clean piece of stationery, and after several long minutes, wrote:

_Dean,_   
_I love you._   
_If you want someone else, please just tell me, and I will let you go._


	28. Chapter 28

He managed to make it to his bathroom before he broke down.

It was two weeks since Cas's birthday, a year since he'd left for New York. Dean had kept it together for so long, but the letter he held clutched to his chest sent him over the edge.

Everyone thought he was cheating, and he couldn't defend himself. He knew what it looked like, all the late nights and early mornings and rumpled clothes. He couldn't tell them the truth.

He could handle Sam and Anna, their suspicious looks and not-so-subtle comments. But Cas . . . He couldn't handle losing Cas's trust.

He read the words over and over.

_If you want someone else, please just tell me . . ._

So resigned, or maybe defeated. He hated that he had made Cas feel that way, hated that he had caused Cas that pain.

When he got his breathing under control, he walked back to the kitchen to start dinner.

“Oh. Didn't know you were home.” Anna was sitting on the couch, television muted, her laptop balanced on her knees.

“It's Monday. Bar's closed tonight.”

“I know, I just . . . I mean, you're never here, so I assumed . . .”

“What, Anna? What did you assume?”

She stared at him as a blush crept up her cheeks. He couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or anger.

“Nothing, Dean. Never mind.”

“Whatever. I'm making dinner. You want anything specific?”

“Mashed potatoes, but we're out of milk.”

“I'll go get some.”

“I wouldn't want to trouble you.” He could practically feel the sarcasm dripping from her tone.

“Really?” he asked, exasperated.

“Yes, really.”

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I can understand how you didn't notice, what with you gone all the time.”

“Are we going to do this right now?”

“Do what?” She looked the epitome of innocence. He didn't buy it for a minute.

“Fine.” He moved in front of her, turned off the television, and pulled the computer from her lap. “Out with it. All the snide little comments you've been saving up. Come on. Let's hear them.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Sure you do. How about 'must have been a late night last night. I didn't even hear you come in' or 'that's a lot of glitter on your shirt for working at a sports bar.'”

Anna gave him a cold glare. “What you're doing is deplorable.“

“I don't cheat.” He kept his voice low and calm. He didn't register Anna's look of shock until he heard a sharp noise come from the laptop. He turned it to face him. Cas had his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

“Hey,” Dean said softly. “Cas, look at me.”

He stared into Cas's bloodshot eyes and felt his guts twist.

“I don't cheat.” He waited until Cas gave him a tiny nod, then handed the computer back to Anna. “I'm going to run to the store. I'll be back in an hour.”

He took a quick inventory of the fridge and pantry, trying not to eavesdrop on Anna's conversation. He didn't realized how bare he'd let the kitchen get until he had a shopping cart full of necessities. Just over an hour and three hundred bucks later, he was back home, putting away his haul.

“You think you got enough?” Anna asked with a smirk.

“Should last us a few days,” he grinned.

“Need help?”

“Nah. You go do your thing. I'll have dinner ready in an hour or so.”

She started to go and turned back. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry about all the comments.”

“You care about your brother. I get it. I just wish you would have asked me directly. That passive-aggressive shit gets old.”

“Are we good?”

“Are you done throwing accusations at me?”

“Yes.”

“Then we're good.”

He was waiting for the potatoes to cool when the phone rang.

“Hello?” No one ever called the landline.

“Hola, usted tiene una llamada por cobrar de . . .”

“Dean, just say yes.” Cas spoke over the operator.

“Yes. Sí,” he stammered. There was a click and Cas's voice was clearer.

“Congratulations. You've just accepted your first international collect call.”

“And to think I'd already had a pretty full day.”

“It has been a rather eventful few hours.”

“Where are you?”

“A restaurant a few blocks from my hotel. I come here frequently, and the owner was gracious enough to let me use the phone.

“This is going to cost a fortune, isn't it?”

“Yes, but I felt it was a necessary expense.”

“I'm not cheating on you, Cas.” Dean heard a choked off sort of sound on the other end of the line. “And I'm not drinking or doing drugs or whatever else. I love you. And I'm sorry about the Pablo thing. I'm . . .” He sighed.

“Frustrated,” Cas finished for him.

“Lonely,” Dean corrected. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. I'm not in a relationship with Pablo.”

“I didn't think you were.”

“Then why the comment?”

“I don't know. I'm getting all this shit from Anna and Sam and I just lashed out.”

“You're an idiot.”

“It's been said,” Dean laughed. There was a pause, and Dean could hear the crash and bustle of a busy dinner service. “Cas?”

“Why are you still working at the bar?”

“Cas, don't—“

“You have more than enough to pay the bills without it,” Cas cut him off. “You don't have to kill yourself working two jobs anymore. So why?”

“Are you upset that I'm working late hours, or that I'm working at the bar?”

“Both? Either?”

He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. “I'm just taking what I can get while I can get it.”

“You are afraid that I won't come home. That you will be stuck there alone.”

Dean gave him a humorless laugh. “Yeah.”

He heard Cas take a deep breath and practically growl letting it out. “I am coming home, Dean. When all of this is over, I'm coming home to you. I promise.” Cas paused, his voice breaking. “I can't do this without you. I can't, and I won't.”

“Then you've got to trust me, babe. I'm not going anywhere. I know you hate me working the Roadhouse, but I have to. I can't just sit on my hands, waiting for the day all this goes to shit.”

“And if it doesn't?”

“Then we'll be prepared for the next crisis.”

“So take the money and invest it. You should be doing that anyway, and then you can stop worrying so much, stop working those long hours.”

“Cas . . .”

“I can't tell you what to do, Dean. And I do trust you. I just don't understand.”

“I'm sorry, Cas. It's just something I have to do.”

“Why?”

Dean could hear the desperation in Cas's voice. He sighed and shifted where he stood, shoving his free hand deep into his pocket. “Because I hate being here without you. I hate sleeping in our bed alone. So I work until I'm ready to collapse and hope I can get a couple hours before the nightmares start. I can't sleep on the couch without upsetting Anna, and I can't crash at Benny's or on the couch in Ellen's office without getting accused of cheating.”

Dean waited while Cas cleared his throat. “I'm so sorry, Dean.”

“Nothing for you to apologize for, Cas. I'm just trying to make the best of a shitty situation. I know it's not easy for you, either.”

“I should have trusted you. I let Anna's doubts cloud my judgment. I'm sorry.”

“I'm sorry I gave you a reason to doubt me. I'm doing the best I can, Cas.”

“I know you are.”

They let a silence fall between them, neither wanting to be the first to say goodbye.

“I'm coming home to you, Dean,” Cas said quietly.

“I know you are, babe.”

“Just a little while longer, I swear.”

Dean nodded, not trusting his voice.

“I have to go. I will write to you soon,” Cas continued, his voice rough. “Goodbye, Dean. I love you.”

“Bye, Cas.” Dean hung up the receiver and scrubbed a hand down his face. He turned back to the stove, repeating “soon” under his breath like a mantra.

**One year later**

“You know I can't come in tonight, Ellen. I asked for the night off months ago.” Dean could almost feel her frustration through the phone.

“Shit. Cas's birthday?”

“Yep. And we both know you're not heartless enough to make me miss it.”

“Dammit, Winchester. Do you know how long it's been since I've had to tend on a Saturday night?” She blew an exasperated breath. “Fine. But you better be in here early tomorrow to get this stock sorted.”

“Yes, ma'am. See you bright and early.”

She hung up without reply, which made Dean laugh. He tucked his phone in his pocket and finished pulling out plates and silverware. The party would be small, just him and Anna, and Cas over the internet, but he wanted it to be special.

Anna came in a few minutes later to catch him chugging a beer.

“Are you that nervous?”

“Haven't seen him in a while.”

“You saw him last week,” she scoffed as she put the birthday cake on the kitchen counter.

“You know what I mean.” He snatched the candles from her and started lining them across the top of the cake. “When are you supposed to call him?”

“Whenever. He should be in his room by now.”

“I'm ready when you are.”

Anna didn't bother hiding her smirk as she booted her laptop and logged in. Cas answered her call almost immediately.

“Shit. I forgot to light the candles. Hang on!” Dean called as he ducked back into the kitchen. “Do over!”

“Of course. I promise to act surprised,” Cas said with a laugh.

Dean lit the candles and Anna hit the lights.

“Happy birthday, Cas.” Dean held the cake so Cas could see it: an angel, similar to the previous year's, adorned with a golden harp.

“That's amazing.”

“I thought angels were warriors,” Anna said.

“Warriors can be musical,” Dean answered.

“You're absolutely right. I don't know what I was thinking.”

“Can you two get on with it and blow out my candles already? I want to make my wish,” Cas said with mock irritation.

“You don't want us to sing first?” Anna pouted.

“Yes, of course. My apologies.”

They sang and blew out the candles and Cas applauded. Dean set the cake back in the kitchen and settled at the table with a beer while Anna flipped on the lights.

“So, how are things, Cas?”

“Good, I believe. I should be done with my report within the month.”

“Wait, what?” Dean glanced at Anna, but she was as shocked as he was.

“I want to wait until the latest quarterly earnings report is out before I can say for certain, but I believe I've learned everything I can about this venture. I should be ready to make my presentation to the board before the holidays begin.”

“Cas, that's great news!”

“Does that mean you're coming home?” Anna asked.

“Shouldn't be long after that, yes. I'm trying to be as thorough as possible so I won't have to make any corrections. I think the board, and Raphael, will be more than satisfied with my findings.”

“That's fantastic,” Anna all but squealed.

Cas smiled and looked at Dean. “I'm coming home.”


	29. Chapter 29

Cas caught himself smiling as he walked to work the Tuesday after his birthday. Anna had called not long after his alarm went off and he was treated to the sight of Dean dancing around the kitchen, cleaning up before bed. Cas schooled his features as he remembered the tight, thin undershirt and old gray sweatpants slung low on Dean's hips as he swayed to a beat only he could hear. He and Anna quietly tried to guess what he was dancing to, listing songs that ran the spectrum, until Dean caught them.

“It's 'Kashmir,' you assholes. And yes, I know who Dave Grohl is, Anna.” He gave her a look over his shoulder and continued putting away the dishes.

“You seem to be in a good mood today, Castiel.” Hannah pulled him out of the memory as he passed her on the way to his office.

“I spoke to my sister this morning.” He gave her a small smile.

“Always nice to speak to family, especially when they are so far away.”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Is the earnings report available?”

“It is on your desk,” she nodded, and turned back to her office.

He was lost in the information in front of him when several colleagues interrupted to invite him to lunch. He declined, opting instead to use the quiet of the lunch hour to his advantage.

He was startled out of his concentration not long after by a sharp knock at the door. Hannah peeked in before he answered.

“Castiel, do you have a moment?”

“Of course.” He laid down his pen and offered her a seat.

She sat down and took a deep breath. “Forgive me, but what do you intend to tell Mr. Novak and his board of directors?”

He was shocked at her frankness, but he hid it quickly. “Why?”

“I'm sure you can understand how difficult it will be for people in our positions,” she gestured to the empty offices behind her, “to find employment, should Mr. Novak decide to close this branch.”

“Someone in your positions?” He squinted at her.

“It can be difficult for someone like myself and a majority of the staff to reach this level of employment.”

“Surely there are companies that would love to have people of this level of talent and experience.”

“You misunderstand, Castiel. I have been very careful in my dealings with Mr. Novak to maintain a purely professional relationship, and I was honestly surprised when he sent you to evaluate our performance. I did not believe, given what I know of his personality, that he would put someone like you in such a position.”

“Someone like me.” The pieces clicked into place. “You think I'm gay.”

“I apologize,” she stuttered and blushed, and he held up a hand.

“I'm not offended, but I'm not gay.” She squinted at him and he huffed a laugh. “I don't generally discuss my sexuality with colleagues, but suffice it to say that there is a reason my brother doesn't know about my boyfriend.”

She sighed in relief. “I apologize for approaching you like this. I assumed you knew.”

“I suspected, but as it has no bearing on my professional opinion, I didn't require confirmation.”

“Does this change your report at all?”

“I have to be honest in my presentation, and will report the facts that are available to me. However, as I see no reason to close this branch, I will do what I can to keep it open. The profit loss wasn't your fault, but the fault of the world economy, and my brother and his board should recognize that.”

Hannah gave him a small smile. “Thank you, Castiel.”

“You're welcome.” He returned her smile as she left the office.

The atmosphere around the office changed almost overnight. There was no longer an underlying current of tension, as if the entire branch felt more comfortable with his presence. He began to notice family pictures proudly displayed on desks, and overheard more conversations involving significant others.

He made the observation to Pablo during a tutoring session.

“I don't know why I didn't put it together sooner. I knew they were guarded, but I simply assumed it was because of my position.”

“Is it a problem for you, working with . . . homosexuals?” Pablo dropped his voice on the last word.

“I would be a hypocrite if I thought orientation had any bearing on one's ability to do their job.”

He watched emotions shift across Pablo's face, from confusion to understanding, and waited for the inevitable questions. He was shocked with they didn't come.

Shocked and angry, as Pablo used the moment to lean forward and kiss him hard on the lips.

Cas roughly pushed him away. “What the fuck?!” He said it in English, but wasn't surprised that it translated.

“I thought,” Pablo blushed.

“You thought wrong.” Cas stood and started shoving his books into his bag.

“Please, Castiel. I'm sorry.”

“Damn right you are,” he growled. “What was your assumption that you would think kissing me was the appropriate response?”

“I don't know. I'm sorry.”

“We're done here. I don't know if I will be available for any future appointments.”

“Castiel, please forgive me,” Pablo caught his hand. “I've learned so much from you.”

Cas wretched his hand free. “Not enough, apparently.”

He practically ran back to his hotel. He could feel the tears prickling behind his eyes, but he refused to let them fall until he was safely locked in his room. His hands shook as he booted his computer and logged on, praying his sister was available. He paced the short distance around his room and waited for her to answer. He remembered the time difference after he sent a second call through. He reached to hit the cancel button when Dean answered.

“Cas? What's wrong?”

“Dean,” he said, letting the tears spill down his cheeks.

“Anna's in the shower. Hang on a second.”

Cas shook his head no. “Have her call me later?”

Dean watched him for a moment, then held up a finger. “Just hang on a minute, Cas,” he said and disappeared from view.

Cas paced while he waited, opening and clenching his fists in the hopes that the waves of anger would subside.

Anna appeared wrapped in her bathrobe, her hair piled on her head in a towel. “Cassie? What happened?”

He scrubbed his hands down his face and willed himself to stop shaking. “Pablo kissed me.”

He watched Dean's knuckles go white, his hands balled into fists. He stood just to the side of Anna, and Cas watched him force himself to take a step back, pulling himself out of the conversation.

“What?!” Anna exclaimed.

“We were talking about work and how the situation has changed there. He asked me if it was a problem, and when I said no, he kissed me.”

“And then what happened?”

“I pushed him away and left.” Cas noticed something shift in Dean's expression, but he was too distracted to figure out what it meant. “Why would he do that? Why would he assume I wanted that?”

“I don't know, Cassie. I mean, you're smart, funny, reasonably attractive.”

“None of that implies that I want his lips anywhere near mine.”

“You're right. What he did was wildly inappropriate.”

“Thank you for attempting to justify my anger.”

She let out a breath slowly and scrunched her brow. She turned to Dean. “Can you hold down the fort on your own for a few days?”

“Shouldn't be a problem.” Dean answered without taking his eyes off the monitor.

“Good.” She turned back to Cas. “I'm on the next flight out.”

“That's not necessary.”

She shrugged. “I know, but I'm coming anyway. I've never been to Spain. Besides, what's the use of being a Novak if I can't fly halfway around the world whenever I want? See if you can get me a room on your floor. I'll email you my flight schedule.”

“No, Anna. Absolutely not. There's no reason for you to fly out here and miss work.”

“Maybe I want to take care of my big brother.”

Cas gave her a small smile and felt some of the anger drain from him. “As much as I appreciate the sentiment, it's unnecessary. I just,” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I needed to talk to someone.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I don't know.” He shrugged and sat down. “I think it would be best to discontinue contact with him.”

“At the very least,” she agreed. “Are you sure you don't want me to come out for a few days?”

“No. You're more than welcome to visit whenever you want, of course, but there is no need to make a special trip. I'm fine.”

She studied him for a moment, then nodded. “If you're sure.”

“I am. I apologize for upsetting you.”

“No need to apologize, Cas. We care about you.”

Cas smiled. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she grinned. “Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“I will. Goodbye.”

“Bye, Cas.” Dean gave him a small smile just as Anna ended the call.

 _Cas,_  
_What Pablo did was horrible and despicable and I wish I could kick his ass so hard his grandchildren will feel it. I'm so sorry he did that to you. Don't worry, Anna made me promise not to punch things, but we might need to get a new set of dishes._  
_I quit the Roadhouse. I didn't know how to tell you. I still can't sleep in our bed, so I sleep in Sam's room most nights. Anna and I talked about it, and I think she gets it. Incidentally, we're getting him a bigger bed before he visits again. I'm three inches shorter than he is and I barely fit on that mattress. I have no idea how he manages. Permission to order my “little” brother a California King?_  
_Speaking of, Sam has a new girlfriend, Sarah. Met her at an art auction, of all places. Some charity thing for the firm. She sounds way out of his league. He wants to bring her home, but won't until you get back. Says it's not really “meeting the family” if you're not here. You better hurry up and come home so he can marry her before she figures out she's getting the bad end of this deal._  
_Fuck, I miss you, Cas. I miss stupid stuff like holding your hand and listening to you argue with the idiots on the Discovery channel and the way you shove your reading glasses on top of your head when you get frustrated._  
_Come home to me, babe._

 _Dean,_  
_Please don't punch things, and stop breaking our dishes. Pablo isn't worth it. As a precaution, I've quit tutoring entirely. I don't want to put his friends in the awkward position of choosing who to believe, and I won't have him speak against me if I can help it. Easier to avoid the situation altogether. I'll miss it, but it will give me more time to focus on work._  
_I'm not ashamed to say that I'm glad you quit the bar. I do understand why you worked there for so long, and I'm sorry for the necessity of it. Permission granted – please buy Sam a new bed. I would hate for Sarah to be uncomfortable when they come to visit._  
_I miss you as well. I miss your strength, your kindness, your wisdom. I miss kissing you breathless._  
_I'll be home soon.  
_


	30. Chapter 30

Cas waited until he was in the terminal to turn his phone back on. He let the crowd pass, taking his time walking to baggage claim, and dialed.

“Hello?”

“Dean,” he said with a small happy sigh.

“Cas? How are you calling me?”

“My cell phone. I'm in New York.”

“What? Since when? Does Anna know?”

“Not yet. I just landed. I haven't even picked up my luggage yet. I wanted to hear your voice first.”

Dean chuckled. “Sap.”

“I prefer the term 'romantic.'”

“Damn it's good to talk to you. What's going on? Why are you stateside?”

“My report is done. I'll be making my presentation to the board on Monday.”

“And how long after that do you get to come home?”

“Assuming they accept my report and Raph releases me, before the New Year. The board will want this resolved before the holidays, I'm sure.” Cas turned a corner and spotted a man in a plain black suit holding a sign that said “Novak.” “Oh, good. They've sent a driver. Hang on.”

He lowered the phone. “I'm Novak. Would you help me with my luggage? Two black cases with bumblebee ID tags. Thank you.” The driver gave him a look, but stepped toward the carousel.

He put the phone back to his ear. “Raphael was kind enough to send his driver to pick me up.”

“How thoughtful.”

Cas huffed a laugh and stepped out of the terminal into frigid temperatures and straight-line winds. “Fuck, it's cold!”

“Yeah, it gets cold in winter, Cas.”

Cas shoved his hands in his pockets and pulled his jacket tighter around him. “It was sunny and pleasant when I got on a plane yesterday. All I have is my trench coat. I'm going to freeze my ass off.” He followed the driver to the car and silently cursed him for parking so far from the door.

“Then you better get that ass home so I can warm you up.”

“Are you trying to outdo me for cheesiest line?”

Dean laughed loudly. “I've missed you.”

Cas slid into the warm backseat of the Towncar. “The feeling is mutual. I have to go. Can I call you later?”

“People listening in?”

The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror before he merged with traffic. “Yes, absolutely.”

“Call me when you can. I love you.”

“I do, as well. Goodbye.” He hung up and tucked the phone in his inner jacket pocket.

“Mr. Novak, the elder Mr. Novak would like to welcome you home, and asks that you meet him at his office before returning to the townhouse.”

“Did the elder Mr. Novak happen to mention what he wanted to meet about?”

“He did not, sir.”

Cas sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back onto the headrest. He drifted easily, despite the traffic, and woke when the car pulled to a stop in the executive parking structure.

“Mr. Novak is expecting you in his office.”

“Thank you. Will you be taking my things to the townhouse?”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you could, I prefer the room in the back, third floor.”

“Of course, sir.”

Cas climbed out and tried not to fall asleep in the elevator. Raphael's secretary greeted him warmly and waved him through.

“Castiel. How was Spain?”

“Warm.”

Raphael laughed and stood to shake his hand. Cas stopped him before he rounded his desk. “After all this time, there is no reason to pretend we have an amicable relationship. What do you want?”

The smile on Raph's face twisted into a sneer. “To distract you while my driver goes through your luggage.”

“I figured as much. Is there anything else? I had a long flight and I would like to rest.”

“While you're here, you might as well go over your report with me. I'm curious to see your findings.”

“You know my findings. They're the same as what I sent to you before I left Seville. I didn't have any epiphanies during my layover. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe this is sufficient time for your driver to not find what he's looking for.”

“Aren't you curious why?”

“Not particularly. I'm honestly too tired to give a fuck. Goodbye, Raphael.”

“I know about your little trysts. What was his name? Piero? Pedro?”

“I assume you're referring to my student, Pablo. As for tryst, you have a very loose definition.” Cas walked out the door before Raphael could respond.

“You'll regret this, Castiel,” Raph yelled down the corridor. Cas punched the elevator call button and turned back.

“I'm sure I will once I've had some sleep. Right now, not so much.” He punched the button for the lobby, and smiled as the doors slid shut.

He made it to the townhouse just as the driver was dragging his luggage to the wrong bedroom. “I said back room, third floor.”

The driver had the decency to look uncomfortable.

“What exactly were you looking for?”

“Mr. Novak wasn't specific.”

“I'm sure. I can take it from here, thank you.” He hefted the cases up the stairs, leaving the driver to stare after him. As soon as the door was locked behind him, he stripped and crawled into bed. He remembered his promise to call Dean just before he dropped into sleep.

“Hey.” 

“My apologies for my abruptness earlier.”

“That's okay. How was your day?”

“Long. Raphael insisted on meeting with me, despite the fact that I just got off a nineteen-hour flight. Well, a seven-hour flight after a ten-hour layover after a two-hour flight.”

“Jeez. Please tell me they at least sprung for business class.”

“First. My brother is petty and malicious, but my secretary is fond of me and has access to the company's accounts.”

“What did he want that couldn't wait until tomorrow?”

“To review the report. I told him that it was the same as I filed before I left Spain, and that I was too tired to go over what he could easily read for himself.”

“Good for you. The presentation is Monday?”

“Yes. It should take two or three days to present and defend, depending on questions and interruptions. If all goes as I think it will, I'll be home by this time next week.”

“Just in time for Christmas.”

“Indeed.” Cas's laugh turned into a yawn. “As much as I would like to continue this conversation, I'm afraid I'm going to fall asleep mid-sentence.”

“Go get some sleep, babe. I love you.”

“Love you. Goodnight.”

…

“Again, as you can see on pages thirty-eight, ninety-four, and one eleven, the small quarterly losses were immediately followed by exponential gains. They are not indicative of future losses.”

“How can you be sure these so-called small losses aren't leading to a much larger loss down the line?” Raph didn't bother to look up as he asked.

“Because they are isolated events, brought on by losses in the global markets. This branch wasn't losing money. The entire world was losing money.” Cas was determined to maintain a calm monotone, but after two weeks of relentless interrogation, he was losing his cool.

“I've heard enough.” Ezekiel spoke up, rousing everyone in the conference room. “These questions are pointless and frankly antagonistic. Castiel, is there any reason you can see for closing this branch?”

“None.”

“I push to call for a vote.”

“Second,” said several weary board members.

Ezekiel nodded. “Clear the room and call any absent members. Castiel, if you could wait outside, in case you are needed to clarify anything.”

“Of course.” He stepped out of the room with a small sigh of relief. Angela met him on the way to his office, fresh cup of coffee in hand.

“Bless you,” he said, accepting the cup eagerly.

Angela chuckled. “There's a sandwich waiting for you on your desk, if you have time.”

“I sincerely hope I do not, no offense. I just want to be done with this.”

**

Dean roused once from a deep sleep and felt the warm press of skin on his back. He convinced himself he was dreaming, and drifted off.

When he woke again, he was certain he wasn't dreaming.

Cas was laying next to him, sleep soft and warm. He was taut and tan, muscles sharply defined in the early morning sun. Dean blinked and ran his hand through the dark disheveled hair. Cas blinked up at him, a soft smile on his lips.

“Hello.”

“Cas?”

“You looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake you.”

Dean ran his hand down Cas's jawline, down his arm, across his chest. “You're home.”

“I'm home.”

“Nine hundred and seven days.”

Cas squinted at him.

“You were gone nine hundred and seven days.

“But I'm home now. Merry Day After Christmas.”

Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat. Cas reached out for him, and Dean pulled him into his arms. “Albuquerque.”

Cas laughed and pressed his lips to Dean's. They kissed urgently, breathlessly, relearning the taste of each other.

“You're not allowed to leave ever again,” Dean growled between kisses.

“Allowed?” Cas teased.

“Yes, allowed. Don't care who I have to kill, you're never leaving me again.”

Cas murmured and pressed kisses into his skin. “No murder, please.”

“No promises.”

They kissed and clung to one another for what felt like hours, shifting until Cas was curled against Dean's side.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” Dean asked as he idly ran his hand through Cas's hair.

Cas drew a deep breath and stretched his fingers across Dean's stomach. “The board got tired of Raphael's interrogation. Ezekiel, the COO, finally asked me if I thought the branch should be closed. When I said no, he immediately called for a vote. I left the room, got a cup of coffee, and it was over before it was cool enough to drink. Eight to three to keep it open. Raphael wouldn't even look at me. Ezekiel apologized to me, in front of the board, for wasting the last two and a half years of my life. He offered me a severance package, which I accepted on the condition of my complete and permanent termination and that my secretary retain her position and salary. He agreed. I caught a cab to the townhouse, packed my things, and caught another cab to the airport. I waited six hours for a three-hour flight, rented a car, and drove home.”

Dean hummed and dropped a kiss into Cas's hair. “So it's really over.”

Cas nodded and lifted his head just enough to kiss Dean's chest. Dean wrapped him tightly in his arms and pulled him into a kiss.

“What do we do now?”

Cas rolled onto his back and stretched with a groan. “Well, first, I'm going to take a shower. Then I'm going to find something to eat. You're welcome to join me in both those activities.”

“Sounds like a hell of a plan.” Dean nuzzled close. “But I meant in general.”

“I know what you meant. I just refuse to think that far into the future.”

Dean chuckled and kissed Cas's shoulder. “Fair enough. I'll go make coffee while you get the water started.”

“Mmm, coffee. You know how to sweet talk a guy.”

“I do my best.” Dean kissed him once more and went to the kitchen.

Steam rolled past him when he opened the bathroom door, and he quickly pulled off his boxers and stepped into the tub. Cas was facing him, head down, eyes squeezed shut as the hot water beat against his shoulders. Dean watched him, taking in the tan lines and toned muscles, as he let the water run down his back.

“Stop staring at my dick,” Cas said without opening his eyes.

“I wasn't. Just enjoying the view.” Dean slipped in beside him and ran his hand down Cas's back, over his ass. “Hard not to stare.”

Cas hummed a response and switched places with him. He watched the lather run down Cas's body and slid a hand down to his growing erection. He jacked himself loose and slow. “Is shower sex still against the rules?”

“Considering the safety issues, yes, but feel free to continue.” Cas gave him a sly smile and moved past him to rinse off.

“Not as much fun if you don't help.”

Cas ignored him and started scrubbing his hair. Dean shrugged and reached for the soap. He bathed while Cas rinsed, then took his turn under the spray. Cas slapped his ass and stepped out.

“Come on. We can have all kinds of bed sex after breakfast.”

“Yeah?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“But only if you hurry. I'm starving.”

Dean was disappointed to find Cas already dressed by the time he got out of the bathroom. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, cup of coffee clutched in both hands, when Dean came in.

“Where do you want to eat?” Dean asked as he filled his own mug.

“The diner down the street is fine.”

Dean nodded and took a sip.

“Are you going to tell me what's going on with all the textbooks or do I get to guess?”

Dean choked on his coffee. There were novels and paperbacks scattered on the coffee table, textbooks stacked next to the overloaded bookshelf, notebooks open on the kitchen table. He gave Cas a sheepish grin and cleared his throat. “Um. Surprise?”

Cas blinked at him and he could feel his cheeks flush. “I'm about fifteen hours from graduating. Should be done in May.”

“That's impressive, considering your full-time day job.”

Dean hung his head, hesitating to answer. Cas stepped into his space, hand on his hip. “I got laid-off. A little over a month after you left. They started from the bottom up, and because of all the time I was in California with Sam, I was pretty close to the bottom. I didn't have to worry about the bills, what with your creative accounting, but I needed something to do during the day, so . . .”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

Dean shrugged. “Honestly because I didn't know if I could make it this far, and I didn't want to disappoint you if I couldn't hack it.”

“I wouldn't have been disappointed.”

“Yeah, well. We can talk about all this over pancakes.” He gave Cas a brief kiss and grabbed the car keys.

“What's your major?” Cas asked after they were settled in the diner booth.

“English. I wanted to do Lit and Language, but it's only offered at the Overland Park campus, and I didn't want to make that drive every day.”

“Understandable.”

“I was hoping to teach. High school. That's assuming I can pass the certification tests.”

“From what I remember, they aren't too bad.”

Dean nodded and thanked the waitress when she set their plates in front of them. Dean stretched his legs out under the table and hooked his foot behind Cas's calf. He couldn't stop himself from touching since he finally could.

“What about you? Are you going back to teaching? Or are you still refusing to think about it?”

Cas huffed a laugh. “Yes. Right now I just want to enjoy being home. I've been working non-stop, sixty- and seventy-hour weeks since the day I left. We can afford to take a few days off.”

Dean laughed and cut his pancakes. “We can afford to take a few years off, if you want.”

Cas looked at him wide-eyed. “I know my salary was good, but it wasn't that good.”

“It is if you invest it right.” Cas stared at him, but he kept his eyes on his plate. “I didn't want your money to just sit there and dwindle away, so I hired an accountant. One of Anna's friends from her gaming group, Charlie Bradbury. She set me up with a pretty decent portfolio.”

Cas gaped at him and he couldn't help but chuckle. “I mean, we're not Novak rich, but we'll get by.”

“How much?”

“Just under five mil.”

Dean took a bite with a satisfied grin. Cas was frozen in place, fork halfway to his mouth.


	31. Chapter 31

**Five years later**

“Dean? You ready to go?”

Dean looked up from the paper he was grading. Cas was standing in the doorway of Dean's classroom, his backpack slung over one shoulder and an easy smile on his face.

“Yeah. I was just finishing these up.” Dean straightened the quizzes he'd been grading and dropped them in his desk drawer. He grabbed his bag and crossed the room to his husband. Cas didn't stop him when he leaned in and lightly kissed the corner of Cas's smile. They threaded their fingers together briefly, then stepped into the hallway.

“I think I've finally convinced Campbell to let me teach _Dorian Gray_ next year,” Dean said as they made their way past the rows of lockers.

“You have? How?”

“Promised to teach it with _Faust_ so I can focus on the correlation. You know how self-righteous he is. He ate up all that 'selling your soul' and 'corruption of sin' stuff.”

They pushed through the heavy doors into the early spring sunshine and turned toward the parking lot.

“See ya, Mr. Novak, Mr. Winchester!”

“Take it easy, Adam. Try not to spend your whole break playing video games, okay?” Dean waved at the tall, lanky kid unchaining his bike from the rack.

“'Course not!” Adam laughed and rode off.

Cas waved and turned back to their conversation. “Does he know you plan to discuss the overtly homosexual characterizations?”

“I'm guessing not.” He grinned and unlocked Cas's door. He wiped a speck of dust from Baby's chrome as he went around to the driver's side. He slid onto the smooth vinyl and promised himself he would do something extra special for Cas's birthday. Seeing his Baby restored to her former glory had been one of several surprises Cas had given him for his birthday that year.

Dean started the car, and rested his hand on Cas's thigh as soon as they were on the road. Cas laid his hand over Dean's and folded his fingers into his palm.

“Are you sure you don't want to drive out there?” Dean asked.

“To Sam and Sarah's? We can if you want to.”

“I'm asking if _you_ want to. I know Anna and Charlie are planning on being there later in the week. But, if you'd rather not, I understand.” Dean glanced over, and saw Cas scrunch his brow.

“As much as I'd like to see everyone, I think it would be best if we stay close to home.”

“Then that's what we'll do.” Dean squeezed his hand and turned on to their street. He didn't let go until he pulled into the garage. “Come help me make burgers for dinner?”

“You don't need my help,” Cas said with a look.

“Yeah, but I don't want you over-thinking things while pretending to read, either.” He smiled and pulled his bag from the backseat.

“I'm going to call Sam, let them know we're not coming. Want me to call Anna?” Dean asked when Cas joined him in the kitchen.

“No, I'll call her later. She's probably still at the office,” Cas said, not looking up as he riffled through the mail. Dean nodded and headed to the bedroom.

He came out a few minutes later and found Cas standing in the spare bedroom at the end of the hall.

“Cas?”

“What color do you think we should paint it?”

“I told you I'm fine with whatever.”

“Even hot pink?”

“Even hot pink.” Dean grinned and swatted his ass. “I'm gonna go start dinner.”

Cas wandered in some time later. He kissed Dean's cheek as he passed, and settled at the kitchen table. “I'm thinking lavender.”

“Thought that was a plant.”

Cas laughed. “It's also a color.”

“Yeah, there's a reason I'm not an art teacher.” Dean transferred the hamburgers from the skillet to a plate. “We going to the game Tuesday?”

“I would like to, yes.”

Dean nodded and fixed their plates. “Is that why you didn't want to go to California?”

“One of the reasons,” Cas acquiesced and took the plate Dean handed him.

“Okay. But that doesn't mean you're off the hook for the whole 'vacation' thing. You're not just going to sit around moping all week.”

“Not all week, no. I've planned several breaks for brooding, and at least one for being grumpy.”

Dean stopped with his burger halfway to his mouth and caught the slight uptick of Cas's lips. “If you could space those out, that'd be great.”

“Of course.” Cas grinned, and Dean smiled with him.

“But seriously. Vacation. No grading. No planning lessons. Nothing educational whatsoever.”

“Would you rather I play video games all week?”

“Well, not all week. I was hoping we could get some you-and-me time in there somewhere.” Dean waggled his eyebrows.

“Don't be gross, Dean. I'm eating.” He took a bite of his burger, and Dean threw back his head and laughed.

…

Dean pulled into the small gravel lot next to the soccer field. Before he could shut off the car, a bouncy blonde woman was waving at them. “What's Donna doing here?”

Cas shrugged. “Maybe Jody couldn't make it.”

Dean rolled that over in his mind while he stepped out and followed Cas toward the sets of metal bleachers. Donna met them before they made it to the field.

“Congratulations, boys!” Her smile wavered at their looks of confusion. “Well, haven't you heard? The court called just before we left.”

“What are you talking about? Our lawyer would have called. Are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure. Jody's packing her things as we speak. She doesn't know yet, though. I thought you'd want to be the ones to tell her.” She gave them a blinding smile and a conspiratory wink. 

Cas looked up at him, his expression carefully blank. Dean dug his phone out of his pocket, and it started ringing before he could dial. “Sammy? Putting you on speaker.”

“Dean! Is Cas there?”

“I'm here, Sam. What's going on?”

“Guys! She's yours! The judge signed off this afternoon!”

“Sam, I swear . . .” Dean squeezed his eyes shut. “No loopholes? Nothing that can come back to bite us in the ass?”

“I checked the forms twice before I called. Claire is your daughter.”

Dean barely noticed Donna's excited squeal as he let out a shaky breath, and Cas leaned into him, face buried in Dean's neck. He wrapped his arm around Cas's waist and tried to remember how to breathe.

“Congratulations, guys. I'll be there next week to finalize everything.”

“Okay. Thanks.” He hung up and wrapped Cas in a hug.

“Oh, you two look like you need to sit down.” Donna guided them to the bleachers and shoved bottles of water into their hands. Dean was vaguely aware of the game that was going on before him, but he couldn't focus on anything but the blonde nine-year-old wearing the number 29. When the final whistle blew, she ran straight to them.

“Dean! Cas! Did you see? Did you see the pass I made?”

“We did, sweetheart,” Cas said, his voice weak.

Dean gently took her hands, and she eyed him warily. “What's going on?”

“How would you,” Dean started, and cleared his throat. “How would you like to come home with us?”

“Are you . . . For the night?”

Cas's voice cracked when he answered. “For forever.”

She looked between them, and Dean held his breath. “The judge signed?”

Dean laughed and pulled her into a hug. “I'll let you ask Uncle Sammy all about it as soon as we get home.”

“Home.” She hiccuped and hugged tighter, her sobs muffled in his shoulder. Cas curled around them, tears sliding down his cheeks.

When she pulled back, he smiled and wiped the tears from her face. “Let's go home.”


End file.
